After my new frame of mind blogging yesterday, I spent a couple hours basking in my newfound liberty before promptly getting depressed. I swear, I drive myself crazy. Sunday afternoons are either one of the best times of the week or one of the most depressing, yesterday was the second. However, I figured out a couple things.
One, I already knew—I’m crazy. I don’t wanna fall into a relationship. One, I still need a lot more time; two, I nowhere near over him; three, no, just no. However, my massive insecurity has grown to mammoth proportions over the past year, so riding high after a very enjoyable date apparently means I have to be stressed about if the boy is going to call and really plan a second date. Yes, I know the rule is to wait a minimum of two days before next contact, but still. Apparently, a lot of ‘self-worth’ was caught up in that second date. Around eight, he called and asked if I would go on a second date with him. I said yes. He’s making me dinner. That crazy part of me calmed down.
Two, I’m crazy. As soon as I felt better and happy that he called and actually liked me enough to want to see me again, my brain starting freaking out about what I was doing. I shouldn’t be going on dates! I shouldn’t want to go on dates! What if I fall into a relationship that I’m not supposed to be in because I’m weak? What if I should be in a relationship with this guy and I screw it up because it’s too soon? What if? What if? What if? I’ve never been good at just enjoying the moment and letting life happen (I was with him, and we all know how that turned out). Talk about being my own worst enemy. Like I said, crazy.
Three, I’m not as self-aware as I like to boast. This whole process, not just the dates, is definitely a different step. One that I didn’t consciously make, and one that freaks me out. I’m attempting to sever my ties to him, it seems. I didn’t really mean to. I mean, what’s left to sever? How do you sever ties with someone who left, who doesn’t love you? He did the severing for me. Or so I thought. By changing my frame of intention like I talked about yesterday, and by going out on dates, I really am saying that he is in the past—or at least trying to move him there. Of course, that’s not what I want, but it is what I have to do. (Duh, I know.) Apparently, there is a whole new kind of grieving process associated with this. Fun. Then the what if’s come back. What if I am supposed to hold on? Am I attempting to let go too early? If I had more faith would things turn out? Am I betraying him? Myself?
ARGGHHHHHH! Yes, crazy!
In the midst of pondering through all these thoughts and trying to make sense of them, while watching Glee, also trying to sleep (yeah, let’s not talk about how much sleep I got last night), he texted me on his way back from California. He sent me a picture of a luggage tag he saw on the plane. It was corgi (WANT ONE). I responded, and then after several minutes and guilty feelings, I erased his text.
Four, I don’t how to do this insane thing called life. Again, not new news. Just reiterated again and again.
I’m going to do everything I can to hold on to the outlook I was so strong in yesterday, and I feel good about that. I’m going to go on this date, and maybe third if he wants, and simply try to enjoy it, not over-analyze too much. I’m going to try to get stronger again. Somehow, even though we all know the core of me is waiting for his return that will never come, I am going to intentionally sever the ties my soul has with him. I have to. And, I’m going to attempt, in the midst of trying to reinvent and better myself, to not make every moment about me. 2009 was all about Brandon. No wonder it was horrible.
Black Coffee Tables
2 years ago