(no subject)
I realize it's been a while since I've written anything of substance aside from cut-and-paste jobs of song lyrics. Despite the fact that I have an online journal and have pretended to maintain it for years now, broadcasting my personal life on the internet has always made me uncomfortable. Has this stopped me from the occasional emo or passive aggressive away message or Facebook status? Not always, unfortunately.
I've usually been lucky enough to have someone to act as my sounding board, removing the need for me to share my anguish with you, gentle reader. For the past three years, M was someone who I could tell absolutely anything to. Though we've proven surprisingly committed to and adept at turning a shattered romance into a strong friendship, it feels unfair somehow to expect him to remain my confidant. Or at least someone who I can talk to regarding my issues with intimacy and relationships with other people. Now my roommate, who owes me anyway for the hours I've spent listening to the ups and downs of her dating life, has started to take his place. I think, though, that we exchange drama more out of obligation and need than genuine concern and understanding. I guess that's fine.
Last night I called Marshall after not hearing from him in four days-- the longest we had gone without contact in maybe years, if I remember correctly. He stayed in my apartment on Friday night so he could get to a wedding in Durham on Saturday. I got in very late on Friday night and spent most of Saturday morning hiding in my room so I wouldn't have to see him. I was surprised at how anxious his being there made me. We spoke for a few minutes, mostly about how lots of people had been asking me to recount the break-up lately and it made me depressed to keep retelling the story (trying to put together causes with effects, making what happened a cohesive story with an ending that felt okay to me), and I sent him on his way.
Anyway, I called him last night because I genuinely missed him. I still do. When we first broke up, I was so determined and turned off that his emails and phone messages irritated me. I wanted him to move on like I thought I was doing. But once I got the post-breakup hookup out of the way and realized that I was truly alone, I just sank. I've kind of diverted my pain into a tepid, PG-rated, non-exclusive "we're not dating" situation with a friend of mine, but the healing has plateaued and I don't think I'm capable of feeling any sparks with someone new. M has similarly found a cuddle-buddy of his own at TIP. I was relieved when it seemed like we both weren't ready to move on completely. He plans to break things off when the summer session ends, and I've told LR that I am not at all ready to get attached. The sentiment was that, although we had each found someone to be comfortable with, neither of us was ready to really connect with someone else. I don't know what I'll do when M starts actually dating again, even though I've strongly encouraged him to do so. Did I mean it?
M told me a few weeks ago that even if he finds someone else, marries someone else, gets to have his perfect Jewish home with someone else, he'll be happy, but it still won't be me. Maybe it's his wound talking, and I'm really not as fantastic as he thinks I am, but I definitely wonder if I'm always going to be the one that got away. I wonder if it'll feel that way to me. I know we're both capable of finding love and genuine happiness with someone else, but when I look at the men around me, I still judge them in terms of what they don't have that M did. Is that wrong? Does that part heal with time? A part of me still wants us to plan our lives together so that we can see what would happen with time. I want to tell myself that that is fucked up, but I think he feels it too, and I don't think it's wrong.
I'm so tired of waiting for the dust to settle around here.
I've usually been lucky enough to have someone to act as my sounding board, removing the need for me to share my anguish with you, gentle reader. For the past three years, M was someone who I could tell absolutely anything to. Though we've proven surprisingly committed to and adept at turning a shattered romance into a strong friendship, it feels unfair somehow to expect him to remain my confidant. Or at least someone who I can talk to regarding my issues with intimacy and relationships with other people. Now my roommate, who owes me anyway for the hours I've spent listening to the ups and downs of her dating life, has started to take his place. I think, though, that we exchange drama more out of obligation and need than genuine concern and understanding. I guess that's fine.
Last night I called Marshall after not hearing from him in four days-- the longest we had gone without contact in maybe years, if I remember correctly. He stayed in my apartment on Friday night so he could get to a wedding in Durham on Saturday. I got in very late on Friday night and spent most of Saturday morning hiding in my room so I wouldn't have to see him. I was surprised at how anxious his being there made me. We spoke for a few minutes, mostly about how lots of people had been asking me to recount the break-up lately and it made me depressed to keep retelling the story (trying to put together causes with effects, making what happened a cohesive story with an ending that felt okay to me), and I sent him on his way.
Anyway, I called him last night because I genuinely missed him. I still do. When we first broke up, I was so determined and turned off that his emails and phone messages irritated me. I wanted him to move on like I thought I was doing. But once I got the post-breakup hookup out of the way and realized that I was truly alone, I just sank. I've kind of diverted my pain into a tepid, PG-rated, non-exclusive "we're not dating" situation with a friend of mine, but the healing has plateaued and I don't think I'm capable of feeling any sparks with someone new. M has similarly found a cuddle-buddy of his own at TIP. I was relieved when it seemed like we both weren't ready to move on completely. He plans to break things off when the summer session ends, and I've told LR that I am not at all ready to get attached. The sentiment was that, although we had each found someone to be comfortable with, neither of us was ready to really connect with someone else. I don't know what I'll do when M starts actually dating again, even though I've strongly encouraged him to do so. Did I mean it?
M told me a few weeks ago that even if he finds someone else, marries someone else, gets to have his perfect Jewish home with someone else, he'll be happy, but it still won't be me. Maybe it's his wound talking, and I'm really not as fantastic as he thinks I am, but I definitely wonder if I'm always going to be the one that got away. I wonder if it'll feel that way to me. I know we're both capable of finding love and genuine happiness with someone else, but when I look at the men around me, I still judge them in terms of what they don't have that M did. Is that wrong? Does that part heal with time? A part of me still wants us to plan our lives together so that we can see what would happen with time. I want to tell myself that that is fucked up, but I think he feels it too, and I don't think it's wrong.
I'm so tired of waiting for the dust to settle around here.