(no subject)
So it's over. I can't say that I didn't see it coming, but that doesn't mean that it hurts any less. I've been dating for 10 years now, constantly in and out of relationships, experiencing the good stuff, the bad stuff, the games, the cheating, the lying, the electricity, countless hours on the telephone, the cuddling, the fighting, the cute text messages, the smiles, the frowns, and everything in between. I've done some shitty stuff to people, and I've had some pretty shitty stuff done to me. I've experienced quite a bit in what feels like a short period of time, although, ten years isn't really that short. I've gotten to the point where my heart is never really broken when things are over, no matter who does the breaking up, and after the initial half hour or so of tears, I'm already moving on and more concerned with what's for lunch than the fact that I just ended a relationship I was just in for months or years.
Of all of the boys I've been with over the years, there have been two boys that have really ever been able to pull my heart out and stomp on it in the way that its supposed to hurt when things are over. Kenny was the first, and I think that I was more upset about losing my first REAL boyfriend (I was 16, we actually went on dates and hung out and did shit, he loved me and meant it, we were together for 6 months, etc. As opposed to just writing each other notes and hanging out in front of the school, but not really seeing each other beyond that, like the other stuff I had been through previously.) than anything else.
The second, of course, was Danny. Back when we dated 5 years ago, we broke up twice. The first time, I was so torn apart over it, that even when he was trying to contact me to tell me that he missed me and wanted to try again, I couldn't even bare to read his messages or pick up his calls, despite how much I wanted to. I virtually ignored him and just kept on living life, hoping that we wouldn't run into each other at Nassau, because if I saw him, I knew my heart would fall out of my chest and he would see how broken it was. I didn't really know how to deal with broken heart, as I really never experienced it too much, and I certainly wasn't doing a good job. Eventually he showed up at my house, I was in my pjs, and he forced me to come outside and talk to him even though I wasn't wearing any shoes. It was one of the cutest things he had ever done for me, he even picked me up and held me while we talked because I wasn't wearing shoes and my feet were freezing because it was December. That night, we hung out, and he took me shopping and bought me like 200 dollars worth of clothes. We ended up getting back together, which didn't last very long at all, and we broke up for a second time on New Years.
That's where shit hit the fan for me. I was a miserable wreck. So I did what any miserable wreck of a girl would do, I started dating someone else immediately, got a matching tattoo with him, agreed to an engagement even though I was still torn up over my ex, and eventually ended things about 8 months later. Yes, James Finney was more of a post-Danny error than anything else. He was a pretty good guy, and I liked him, and shit would have probably turned out better for us if timing was different. It wasn't until I met Scott that I got over Danny, because Scott was just something else and I fell instantly in love with him. I was convinced that Scott and I were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and we probably would have if I wasn't such a self-destructive moron. I don't have any regrets, and I definitely don't miss him, but it's still interesting to think "What if..." from time to time.
I saw Danny a few times here and there over the years, but it was never anything serious. A trip to Dunkin Donuts here, a hookup there, etc. In the beginning I was hooking up with him just to have an excuse to see him, and secretly hope that he would be like "Damn I miss this girl." That never happened, and I eventually stopped hooking up with him for a decent amount of time because it was really only hurting me more.
Back in April, Danny took me to a Mets game. Shit, why am I even going to tell this story again? Pretty much the rest of our relationship is documented in my LJ already anyway. I'll give you a brief summary:
1. Mets Game in April - Happy Birthday Kelly
2. Billy Joel in July - Happy Birthday Danny/The beginning of our relationship
3. Counting Crows in August - Took an overnight trip to Connecticut to see the Counting Crows.
4. Boston in September - Took a weekend trip to Boston, it was great.
5. Last Game at Yankee Stadium in September - Took him to the last game at Yankee Stadium, that cost me almost as much as going to Boston haha.
6. Ben Folds in September - Saw Ben Folds on Sept 30th.
7. October - October was good, no huge stuff like trips or anything because I was saving money for his Christmas present, Disney!
8. November - I think we saw each other 2-3 times in November, didn't talk that much. I didn't really think things were going sour because he was working mostly nights, so our schedules were clashing like crazy.
9. December - Boy was I afraid to give him his gift. We still weren't seeing each other often. He went away snowboarding, I went to Vegas. Right before my Vegas trip I saw him and gave him his present. He appreciated how long the card took me to make, and seemed excited about the trip. I kind of got the feeling that things weren't right between us though the last time we hung out. I was bit perplexed about receiving a video camera as a gift from him, as I felt like it meant he didn't really know me. My dad said it meant that he wasn't into me and didn't want to commit. Apparently, Daddy was right.
10. January - I was supposed to go to a party with Danny on New Years Eve, but I was pretty much having a panic attack from when I got off the train to go to work on the 30th all the way until I woke up on Thursday morning, so I canceled because I didn't think I would be able to handle it. It wasn't a small get together, it was a huge freaking party that Pete throws every year. It's more like a wedding reception because it's DJ'd, at a party hall, etc.
Friday night after work I went out in the city for a bit. Had to go to the Apple store to buy a new iPod, because mine was shot. By the way, the iPod touch is amazing, but I wish that I would have just gotten an iPhone. It was a very spontaneous, not very thought through purchase that happened because the Apple store was crowded and causing an anxiety attack. But back to the story...haha...
Friday after I got home I saw an IM from Danny, not sure what time it was from, that said "Call me as soon as you get a chance, we need to talk." To be honest, he may have sent this on Thursday, because I didn't spend the night at home, and I wasn't at my computer to know when it was sent. Either way, I called him right away, so answer. Called again, no answer. Sent a text. My heart sank and I had a panic attack. I went into the kitchen to hang out with my dad. His 50th birthday is coming up on Monday (tomorrow) and I gave him Creepy Crawlers as a gift. (It was his favorite toy as a kid) We made some bugs together, but I was more concerned with if Danny had called back or not yet. He eventually texted me saying "I'm in Philly, I'll call you tomorrow." I responded with "That's a little unreasonable, telling me that you need to talk and then not talking to me." Didn't hear from him for the rest of the night.
I was pretty gloomy all night, because I knew we were over, but I tried not to let it get to me.
Saturday morning I woke up, still no call/text from him. Sent a text "When can you talk?". Didn't really think about it for most of the day, and just lived my life. Called him around 4, no answer. Decided that I didn't care to track him down anymore, and I would just continue my day and not be concerned with things. Why try to force the inevitable?
I was woken up this morning at 11:08 by my phone vibrating. It was him. He heard it in my voice that he had woken me up, and asked if he should call back later. I told him it was fine, and that I wanted to talk. The next thing he said was "I've been thinking and I think that you should find someone else to bring to Disney, and that we shouldn't be together." I was pretty sure this is what he was going to say, so my response was nothing more than... "Ok." He kept talking "I've been thinking about it for like a month now and it just doesn't feel like we work that well together in a relationship." My response "....why?" His response "I don't know. I have fun when we hang out together and I like you and I think we're great friends, but I just don't think we work together in a relationship. I don't know. Maybe I just don't want to be in a relationship right now." My response "...ok...why?" His response "I don't really know. I think we work really well together as friends, I think of you as more than a friend really, but I just don't think that we should be running around doing things like going to Disney because it just doesn't feel right." My response, tears of course. "...ok" His response "Are you okay? I really don't want to hurt you, that's not my intention." My response "I'm fine." His response "Are you sure? Do you want me to let you go?" My response, muffled by tears "I'm okay. Yeah." His response "You can call me whenever if you want. I'll talk to you soon." My response "Bye..." and then ran out of my room hysterically crying to find my brother. I always hug my brother when I'm sad about a boy. It makes me feel better almost instantly. He calls it "Smushie Relief". haha. So cute. :)
Now I'm sitting here writing this, and it took much longer than I wanted it to because my dad keeps coming in and out of the room to try and cheer me up.
It doesn't hurt the way it did last time. But I think that's just because I don't want it to and I'm trying not to think about it. He's always had a special place in my heart, and he probably always will. He's freaking Danny Leo, and I don't know what the fuck I see in him, but there's something and that's just always how it's going to be.
*sigh*
...at least I'm getting a tattoo tomorrow. :) I've been having so many panic attacks lately that I thought that getting a new tattoo might make me feel better. You know, a little pain therapy, like back in the days of when I used to cut myself, but in a healthier way. I was bummed when the guy didn't want to do it right away last week when I went in, but I'm actually happy that I'm doing it tomorrow now that I have a broken heart to mend. It'll be a great start to picking up the pieces.
At the very least, after all that I've been through, I can at least say that I have a very clear idea of what I want and what I don't want out of a relationship, and what I want and don't want in a guy. People spend an entire lifetime trying to figure that shit out, so I consider myself pretty lucky to have a head start. That's why I have no regrets about anything I've done or anything that was done to me, every experience I've had has led me to this point, and has allowed me to have a really clear idea of what will work and what won't work, etc.
That's pretty much all I have to say....