Monday, December 15, 2008

This is as naked as it gets. I'm going to tell my story and then I will never mention it again. Comments will be closed on this post.

I've been sad today. I'm not sure what triggered it exactly. No, that's a lie. One of the bloggers I know in the way you know someone on the internet though you never met suffered a personal tragedy last week. And instead of rushing to support her, I pulled away because it was too painful for ME, which leaves me feeling guilty and raw, which is why I drank WAY more than was healthy for me Saturday night and had to have my hair held back by a friend for the very first time. I HATE that he saw me in pain like that, even if he had no idea what it was that he was seeing.

So, here we go. I've been in love twice in my lifetime. Once was with my high school sweetheart. He was my best friend for nine years and I was his. After some time had passed, we were able to be friends again after the break-up. The second was shorter and more complicated, but he taught me things about myself that I was grateful to learn. (But, yes, if I had the opportunity, I would happily kick him in the head.) Though we have tried, there is a very basic reason he and I can never be friends.

A few weeks after this break-up, I realized something was going on with my body. I was pregnant. The tiny bundle of cells lasted 8 weeks before my body rejected it. Long enough for the ex-boyfriend to tell me to end it, long enough for him to change his mind, long enough for me to tell him to go fuck himself, long enough for me to make a plan, long enough to picture a little face to go with the morning sickness and the "oh my god, I can smell EVERYTHING!". I wasn't ready and I wasn't prepared, but I was determined to make it work, to make a life for myself and a faceless little someone. And, then I didn't have to. And my heart just broke into a million pieces.

I thought that it would be like getting over a break-up, that over time, I would just go back to being myself. It didn't work like that. I spent months picking up the pieces of my life, pretending like everything was normal since only a handful of people had any idea what I'd gone through. I was TERRIFIED of accidentally getting pregnant again. I avoided men like the plague and retreated into the life I had created in my apartment, the life I was living here. I got up, I moved around, I breathed in and out. For a time, it was enough. I was surviving and it was enough.

If you've been here for a while, you know that I woke up from my half-life this summer and decided to date again. Breathing in and out wasn't enough anymore, there was less pretending and though I'll never be the person I was before, I wanted more than surviving. So I tried for a normal life. It hasn't always gone smoothly, but I'm getting there and I'm ready to fall in love again. I'm ready to take that risk again. So, that's what I'm looking for, romance and a life. I think it's time. That is all. Today I am sad, but tomorrow will be better and at the next party I will politely decline the jello shots. I promise. ;)


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