Of defaults and loneliness
By this time I think my boyfriend ex-boyfriend and I are slowly easing out of each other's life. I didn't see him all day yesterday and only saw him the day before because I had spent the prior evening at his place. (His roommate was there, too.) And yes, I'm still counting. Can't say I've totally moved on, but at least I no longer text him random 'I love you's.
Last night after having dinner with my family I suddenly had a pang of loneliness. I wasn't ready to just drive home and end the day, so I hung out at High Street and entered the usual suspects--Fully Booked, Pedro, and the year-end sale atop Dimensione. It just occurred to me now that he and I together frequented those stores--High Street and our relationship were pretty much built at the same time. Maybe that was why I especially missed him last night.
By the time I got to the car with my spoils of war--a book about Melbourne, a new batch of underwear and some facial products--the pang had only worsened. Guess retail therapy never really worked for me. I lost the battle with my superego and finally texted him. Just told him that I was about to leave his area, that I was about to drive home, and that I wish he could call me. Then I texted some other friends--my best friends long before I met my ex--to try to revert to my old, uncomplicated life.
I realized at that point that what I was also missing was having a default--the automatic companion, the constant buddy, the everyday activity partner. It never needed to be an 'event'--no seams existed between shopping, watching movies and dining out, and eating in, watching TV, and waking up in the morning. If not for the change in clothes, events hardly seemed distinguishable. But now everything needed to be planned. Everything needed to start at this-o'-clock and end at that-o'-clock. People needed to be invited. And 'goodbye' meant I had to drive home alone.
I can't even begin to think about the love bit--the part about losing our forever and missing the specific person. This creature of habit is only starting to skim the surface of this break-up. And for 5 years, Manila always had a default.
Perhaps that's why I can't wait to get back to Boston.
Last night after having dinner with my family I suddenly had a pang of loneliness. I wasn't ready to just drive home and end the day, so I hung out at High Street and entered the usual suspects--Fully Booked, Pedro, and the year-end sale atop Dimensione. It just occurred to me now that he and I together frequented those stores--High Street and our relationship were pretty much built at the same time. Maybe that was why I especially missed him last night.
By the time I got to the car with my spoils of war--a book about Melbourne, a new batch of underwear and some facial products--the pang had only worsened. Guess retail therapy never really worked for me. I lost the battle with my superego and finally texted him. Just told him that I was about to leave his area, that I was about to drive home, and that I wish he could call me. Then I texted some other friends--my best friends long before I met my ex--to try to revert to my old, uncomplicated life.
I realized at that point that what I was also missing was having a default--the automatic companion, the constant buddy, the everyday activity partner. It never needed to be an 'event'--no seams existed between shopping, watching movies and dining out, and eating in, watching TV, and waking up in the morning. If not for the change in clothes, events hardly seemed distinguishable. But now everything needed to be planned. Everything needed to start at this-o'-clock and end at that-o'-clock. People needed to be invited. And 'goodbye' meant I had to drive home alone.
I can't even begin to think about the love bit--the part about losing our forever and missing the specific person. This creature of habit is only starting to skim the surface of this break-up. And for 5 years, Manila always had a default.
Perhaps that's why I can't wait to get back to Boston.