Help Me Help Myself

After I wrote last night, The Crazy One called me because he was upset.  I haven’t talked to him for a long time, pretty much the entire time I was dating FM, mostly because of something FM told me before we started dating.  Something about TCO inventing reasons to stay in my life.  He would text me sometimes, but for the most part, I either ignored it or did my best not to encourage him.  Still, I have a hard time being cold to people, and I do care about him.  I’m just smart enough to know that I couldn’t fix him and he won’t seek help.  So, I listened when he told me all about what it was that had him all riled up.  Mostly, I just said “uh huh” a lot, but I guess he felt better when we hung up (which couldn’t come soon enough, in my opinion).  I am much better at helping other people with their problems and emotions that I am with doing it for myself.  True story.

After a while, I went back up to the roof, the clouds overhead creating a blanket over the city.  I took a few pictures with my old 35 mm.  I think there are pictures on that roll of film from last summer…hopefully I’ll get a few good ones when I develop them.  Then, I called a friend – the same friend I had gotten messages from the night before – and talked for almost an hour.  This is a person I don’t know very well, but a very kind person who has been able to give me some insight and perspective on FM, because he knows him. 

I had a hard time falling asleep at midnight (one my time).  When I finally did, sometime after that, I had terrible dreams which woke me up at 5 am.  I just laid there, my mind spinning.  Like Sarah MacLachlan says, I’m so tired, but I can’t sleep.  I am still so confused about what happened, it was so strange.  Do I love him?  Yes, I do.  Am I going to wait around and expect him to realize he made a mistake?  Hell no.  I told him that much. 

That being said, I’m not planning on dating anyone for a while.  It’s gonna take time, a whole lotta precious time, for my heart to heal.  Like I have said, I feel so different than I have after other break ups.  Before, I just kind of fell apart, lashed out at the other person (sometimes), and got really angry.  It’s not as if I haven’t laughed or smiled since Sunday, I’ve been able to do that.  It’s not like I’m shut up in my room not speaking to anyone.  Those are the things that usually happen.  I guess I’m just sad and confused, which is new.  You probably wouldn’t know it from reading my blog, but I am a strong woman.  I am.  

I’m taking Big J out to dinner tonight, since Little J is finally coming home from camp tomorrow (YAYAYAYAYAY!).  He and I haven’t done much together this week, mostly because he’s at the age where he doesn’t want to do much with his mom anymore.  I offered to take him to the movies, too, but he just wants to rent some instead.  I can’t wait to see my baby tomorrow.  It’s been a week with no phone calls or anything, and I’ve missed him so much.  I just want to pick him up and hug and squeeze him and kiss his chubby cheeks.

Here’s my proof that I was fakin’ it with all my might yesterday.  I ate a whole entire slice of pizza, and smiled through dinner!  (In all the times I’ve been to Chicago, this was my first Chicago-style pizza…and don’t mind the looks, I’d been walking around all day).

 

My Day Alone in Chicago

8:20 am:  Waiting on the train, and knowing that I will be okay, at least here on the train.  I didn’t wake up feeling sick this morning like I have been, and I’m hoping that will last.  It may have to do with some messages I got last night from a friend that made things seem less awful.  I still don’t understand what really happened, but I know I’ll be okay, no matter what.

10:10 am:  Stopped at the condo to drop off my bag.  As soon as the elevator doors closed, I almost lost it as I remembered kissing him there.  I had forgotten all about that until just now.

12:00:  Have been at the Art Institute for almost two hours now.  The first place I went, as always, was the Impressionist Wing.  My favorite section in my favorite place in my favorite city.  I didn’t cry in front of the Monet, or the Cassat, or the Degas.  I fought back tears the entire time.  The memories flooding back from the last time I was there, the best time I had there.  I had to fight and fight and fight not to cry in front of Batoli’s “Time Unveiling Truth.”  I did it, though.  My cheeks stayed dry.  I made it all the way through the wing without tears, only wet eyes and a runny nose. 

Would you believe that the thing that finally knocked a tear loose was a glass paperweight?  There was a little area, kind of hidden behind an empty display area, with all kinds of paperweights and glass doorknobs behind glass.  It was in the last section, and was small, with what looked like white lace inside, and a blue “E,” my first initial.  It wasn’t even beautiful or extraordinary, save that it was the only one that had a letter inside.  I can’t say why my sadness came spewing forth at that moment, though hearing sirens of firetrucks outside at the time might have had something to do with it.  Maybe it was because I haven’t really cried much since the first night.  Maybe it was because it was in an area that wasn’t completely crowded.  Whatever the reason, that little fucker did me in. 

I didn’t bring my computer with me, so I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get online later.  Maybe that’s a good thing, who knows?  I’m sure my aunt will have some words of wisdom for me, and she’ll surely keep me busy today.  I am so grateful that I’m feeling better today.  Glad I brought a notebook so I can write and write and write, and hopefully get all of my sad feelings out and away to make room for the happy things I want to come. 

4:30:  Finally got some time alone to think, and walked across to Grant Park.  Talked with Bekki and Nova, laughed and took some pictures.  Went back to the condo to go to the roof.  I felt it immediately, all the things I was able to push away most of the day.  I finally had a moment to myself, completely alone, and I miss him.  I am thankful for the solitude up here, but also scared of the thoughts and feelings that can be pushed aside more easily when everyone else is around.  I am so sad.  Not devastated, not falling apart, just a deep and quiet sadness.  I haven’t felt this before.

8:30:  Things may have just gotten a little clearer, not sure.  I’m tired and I’m sad, and I need something to laugh at.  Gonna go read some blogs and take a shower.  Boy, I faked it good today, smiling and laughing when appropriate.  Fake it to make it, right?  Ugh.  I hate this.

Maybe I Need Blinders

Everything feels wrong today.  I dreamed vivid dreams that were so strange, I don’t even know how to sort them out.  They were at turns hopeful, sad, and terrifying.  I woke up and just laid in bed, not wanting to move, not wanting to sleep, not wanting to be awake. 

I got up to wash clothes, and hey, there’s one of his shirts he’d given me to wear home.  I had an email from Facebook telling me someone had sent a friend request, so I go over and oops, he had just posted an update.  Little things, little things that made my heart sink to my feet. 

I’m afraid that tomorrow I will get to Chicago and see a million little things that will hurt like this.  I’m afraid that I will be an emotional twit.  I feel like I have to do it, though.  One day at a time and all that jazz.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in the city completely alone, I’ve always had someone with me to share it.  The plan is to get in on the train at about 10, drop my stuff at the condo, and go to the Art Institute until lunchtime, where my aunt will meet up with me.  So I’ll be alone for the morning.  The birthday card I gave FM had a picture of a boy and a girl sitting on a bench, looking at a huge painting, because we did that when we were there.  I wrote inside that I loved the memories we’d made and couldn’t wait to make more.  Now I’ll just be a girl there.  Will I be crying in front of the Monets?  There is the distinct possibility.

I’m Stupid

I made the mistake of going through the bag.  I knew there were some clothes in there, and I also wanted to make sure that there wasn’t anything that got left, other than the things I know about. 

It was when I pulled out the underwear, which he had washed and folded, that the tears came.  The first man to ever do my laundry, and I ran him off somehow.  Jesus.  Then, I pulled out the cotton nightdress that I had worn the last night I was there.  It smelled like him.  God help me, everything smelled like him, clean and fresh and home-y. 

I really shouldn’t have done that.

Trying to Heal

Today was better than yesterday, which was better than the day before.  Still very sad, but not as devastated as I was when The Crazy One and I broke up for good last fall.  I think partly because I know that I can get over it because I’ve done it before, and partly because the Fireman and I haven’t spent much time at all together this whole month, so I had been missing him anyway.  I haven’t cried today, which was kind of surprising.  I was able to eat a little bit.  When I am really upset, I don’t have an appetite.  I eat because I know I have to, but after a few bites, I start to feel sick. 

I took the bag that had my stuff from his house in it and threw it in the back of the closet.  I didn’t want it to remind me.  I had already put up the photo I had next to my bed from Chicago, and the photo strips I had on my picture board.  They went into a drawer.  I forced myself to get on Facebook and delete all the pictures of us together (there were a lot), mainly because he already had and I didn’t want to look like a jackass.  I’ve been updating there, but have tried to avoid it for the most part, lest I see what he’s up to and get upset.  I changed my “faves” on my phone so that I don’t see his face when I open it, another reminder.  I have a few texts from him saved because they were so amazing and surprising when I got them.  I haven’t been able to delete them yet, because they were just that sweet.  Maybe I should write them down somewhere before I take them off of my phone.  I am not good at this part at all. 

I did go to sleep last night, somewhere around midnight or one, I’m not sure.  I was completely exhausted, but took a Tylenol pm anyway.  I chatted with Ron and my friend Nova was texting me, trying to cheer me up and just being there.  I read blogs and celebrity gossip, anything to keep my mind off of all things sad.  I did have bad dreams, and it did hurt when I woke up, but I slept and slept and slept.  I didn’t get up until 11, and even Big J was still in bed. 

I got him up and we went to my sister’s house to see the baby and go to lunch with them, then we went back and watched Big Business.  I think Big J laughed once during the whole movie, but hey, he was good and sat with us the whole time.  I let him rent “boy” movies on the way home, so he was happy.  As I was holding the baby, I thought, “well, I won’t be having another child after all.”  That hurt.  I know that it’s still possible, I just feel that as time goes on, my boys are getting so big, and I’m not getting any younger.  The longer it goes, the more that worries me.  Before FM, I didn’t think I would have any more at all.  I had let that go.  Then, it was a possiblility again, and in fact, a plan.  When I looked down at the baby sleeping in my arms, I had to fight back tears for what might have been.

Beks called to check on me tonight after having a hysterectomy this morning.  Mel and Nova have been checking on me, my sister’s trying to keep me busy.  Ron chatted with me last night.  Lucky to have people like this around.

I’m think I’m going to go on Thursday to Chicago and spend the day and night with my aunt.  I really didn’t want to at first, because the last time I went was with the Fireman and it was so much fun.  I was afraid that I would just be remembering things all day.  I decided that it would probably be good, though, to get out of town, get away from my computer, and get my mind off of things (I hope).  So, if any of you Chicago-ans want to get together for lunch or dinner or to go to the Art Institute, let me know.  I’d love to meet y’all for real.  My aunt was surprised when I told her why I would be coming alone, and asked what happened between us.  She really liked him, too.  Everyone did.  She told me that she has found in her long life (she’s 71) that the women have to go after the men, not the other way around.  Maybe she’s right about that. 

Anyway, I know that was just a bunch of rambling, I will probably try to watch a funny movie tonight, then if I’m lucky, just pass out and forget for a while.

I Just Wanna Be Ok

Thank you everyone for the comments.  I’m sorry I can’t answer them all, but I just can’t right now.

I do want you to know that this time, I won’t be telling all.  It just doesn’t feel right.  I think that he was honest with me, and I respect that, even though it hurts like a motherfuckin’ sumbitch.  If his heart wasn’t in it, then it wasn’t, and I don’t want someone to be with me if it’s not.  Ya know?

I kept busy all day, my mom, Big J, Beks and her kids went to lunch, then I killed time writing and writing and writing everything that was in my head, talked to a couple of friends, and my sister and her husband took me to see The Hangover.  It was pretty damn funny, but of course, my mind kept wandering.  I’m afraid to go to sleep because I’m afraid I’ll have bad dreams and I know it’s gonna hurt a lot when I wake up.  The little sleep I’ve had so far wasn’t good, and filled with nightmares.

I’m hurting and I’m sad, and it really, really fucking sucks.  I’ll get over it.  I’ll be stronger.  Don’t seem to be getting any smarter, but maybe stronger is enough.   

P.S. Please forgive me if I post a lot of “feelings” in the near future. 

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today

I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today
I just want to feel something today
I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today
I just want to feel something today

CHORUS:
Open me up and you will see
I’m a gallery of broken hearts
I’m beyond repair, let me be
And give me back my broken parts

I just want to know today, know today, know today
I just want to know something today
I just want to know today, know today, know today
Know that maybe I will be ok

CHORUS

Just give me back my pieces
Just give them back to me please
Just give me back my pieces
And let me hold my broken parts

I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today
I just want to be ok, be ok, be ok
I just want to be ok today

I just want to feel today, feel today, feel today
I just want to feel something today
I just want to know today, know today, know today
Know that maybe I will be ok
Know that maybe I will be ok
Know that maybe I will be ok

Happy Fucking Birthday

Fuck fuck fucking fuck fuck. 

I knew something was wrong.  For a whole damn month I’ve known it.  What have I said before?  I should listen to my instincts, because they’re pretty strong and pretty accurate. 

I had two conversations with FM in which I addressed these feelings, to which he assured me everything was okay with us, I didn’t have anything to worry about.  When we were together, I felt confident in that. 

I guess I should back up a little.  From February until the beginning of June, everything was perfect.  I kept asking myself if it was too good to be true.  I guess it was.  We talked about marriage and babies and the kind of life we would have.  No, I was not the one who started all of these conversations.  We had fun and we laughed and it was like home.  It felt safe and real, and I was so happy and felt very lucky.

Things changed, he was scared and started pushing me away.  I went to talk to him last night because I was tired of knowing something was wrong but not knowing what.  I guess he had been thinking about it as much as I had.

There was no yelling, no screaming or throwing things.  I cried, but I didn’t call him names or cuss him out.  I got my things (clothes, movies, etc.) that I had there.  The money I had put in towards a trip somewhere fun.  I kept waiting for him to say no, don’t go.  He didn’t.  And goddammit if I didn’t realize that one of my favorite cd’s is in his garage, and I have some of his things here, too.   

I drove around aimlessly because I didn’t want to go home a sobbing mess.  I called Bek.  I had told her earlier in the day that I thought he was going to break up with me.  I met Mel and she drove me to Bek’s house.  I told them what had happened, and cried a whole lot.  We joked about all the weird celebrity deaths, about how Bek is freaked out that my intuition is so strong sometimes, and about how I can’t seem to keep a man.   I have never reached for a bottle to help me feel better, but last night I did.  It didn’t work.  I still couldn’t sleep. 

I’m still crying even now.  I’m the asshole who was crying in her car this morning on the way home, because FLASH to us laughing on the living room rug, him saying “let’s get married.”  FLASH to us laughing in bed and him saying, “we are going to have such a fun marriage.” FLASH to me looking at him one night and just knowing he was it.  FLASH FLASH FLASH. 

I’m not anxious anymore, at least not like before.  Just really sad.  Not understanding still, but knowing that I’ll be okay.  How many times have I been through this?  I don’t even know.  It’s not a new feeling.  I always find my way.  I told Bek that the worst part might be that I can’t even call him an asshole or a bastard, because he isn’t.  He’s still a good man.  She said she thought he would call in a few days and say he made a mistake.  I know he won’t, it’s not his style.  I’m gonna miss him, but I’ve been missing him for a while now.

It’s gonna take a good while to get over this one, babies.

Break

Another break up.

Another break.

Confused and sad. 

Don’t know what to say.

When will I learn?

Stupid Sad Movies

That’s it, my final final is finally done.  Completed and emailed to the professor.  Whew.  I had both Bek, who was a TA in the same class (different instructor) and my mother, who is a genius, look over the questions and they were both just as confused as I was.  Oh well, I did my best, and it’s all said and done now.

I went to the movies today with Bek, Mel, Little J, and their kiddos.  At first we thought the kids were going to go see Up, but they all decided to watch My Sister’s Keeper with us.  Big J decided he’d rather stay at home and goof off (yup, he’s a teenager).  I knew the first time I saw the trailer for the movie that I’d have to see it.  I also knew I should probably wait until it was out on DVD so I wouldn’t cry all over myself in public.  At least I didn’t cry too much.  Mel was crying from the first five minutes on!  I haven’t read the book, but Mel said that they changed the ending for the movie.

We all went out to The Pizza Hut afterwards and gorged ourselves.  I really wished Big J was with us, but we had a good time.  Even Bek’s husband came, which was quite brave of him.  I don’t get to see my girls enough.  Luckily on Monday, Beks and I are going to lunch and a tear-free movie.

Little J is all packed up and ready for camp.  I’m suddenly not sure I’m ready for my baby boy to be away from me for a week (without his dad, too.)  I’m gonna miss that boy.

I was able to talk to my Fireman for a bit tonight, and just hearing his voice made me smile.  They were at the beach, and as I was talking to him, Little Man came up to ask him a question.  I love his little boy voice so much.  I miss my boys being small.  I miss my man.

Now, I’ll settle in for a movie on Netflix, having already watched the entire first season of Californication.  That show is the shiznit, y’all.  The writing is amazing.  ‘Night.

Please Excuse The Mess

Well, I’m just about done with the summer session of school.  All I have to do is finish up a take-home final and turn it in by Monday.

I’m supremely happy to be (almost) done with the linguistics class.  Not because the subject was boring, but because I loathed the professor.  Every time I asked a question, I was given a song and dance around the *actual* answer.  She was very knowledgable, but a horrible teacher.  Class was confusing and frustrating, and most times at the end, I was alternately crawling out of my skin or ready to kick someone (her).  Good riddance, and I will never take another class with her again!

I will, however, miss my Oral Interpretation class – it was like a playground.  All we had to do was read poetry, prose, and drama in front of the class.  Well, we had to take a couple of tests (open-book), and we had to make it meaningful and entertaining to our audience.  I loved this class, it was so much fun.  For our last class tonight, we did group performances, which had to include all three kinds of pieces.  Our group was the best, naturally!  We did a play called Controlling Interest, which can be read here.  It is really silly, and I got to be Ashley, who was the all-knowing, sexy older girl.  Tuesday and Thursday nights are going to be really boring now. 

I’ve really been trying hard to keep myself busy lately.  My old foe anxiety has been making random appearances and I don’t like it one bit.  I find that running helps me feel better, but usually by nighttime it returns.  Not always, but sometimes.  I can’t pinpoint why I’m feeling this way, other than just having such an insane amount of free time on my hands. 

I did run today, in the middle of the day, and it was hot as balls.  After my run, I felt so giddy, so carefree, and completely at ease.  If I could feel like that all the time, my head would probably explode!

I had so many plans for this summer, and not many of them have come to fruition.  I had planned on my boys meeting the Fireman’s Little Man.  I thought for sure by now they’d know each other pretty well, and we would all be going camping this weekend, where we would meet the rest of his family.  Suffice it to say that these things haven’t happened.  His work schedule has left him little time with his own boy (he hates it), let alone extra boys and a girl.  He’ll be going camping with Little Man and his family this weekend, and I’ll be driving Little J to camp on Sunday.  I understand, but I am disappointed that we haven’t been able to do anything with all the boys together.

Another thing that I’d hoped would happen is another trip to Chicago for our birthdays.  His was Tuesday and mine will be on Monday.  I’ve saved some money, and my aunt offered to get us tickets to do some things…even offered to let us stay in her condo.  After the great time we had in March, it was something to look forward to.  Now I’m not sure if we’ll get to go.  He has so many commitments that it may not be possible to get him out of the city for even a day.  I could go alone, I suppose, but I doubt I would.  I want to spend time with my guy, dammit.  I guess that makes me selfish, but someone once told me that love is selfish.  Please cross your fingers and say a little prayer that he’ll be able to go.  Pretty please?  With sugar on top?

Anyhow, I guess I’ve done enough rambling.  My head is aching and I’m exhausted.