Jet-lag in velour
I had caught myself at the airport, thinking too dramatically, lamenting over the lateness of the flight and how I would probably have to get accommodated there. "Honestly," I had to chastise myself, "It's 9:30 and perhaps it will take you three hours to get home, but you can still get home, so do it."
On the train with two bags and a bit of sweat down my back, that forced me to lean forward to let my backpack fall, I was able to text Natto honestly, when she mentioned the elephant that was hanging around. Truthfully, I told her, I don't want to date Kenny anymore, anyway -- I'm better than that, and his mouth was too big and so was that nonsense at the end. He's not mature enough for a relationship and he doesn't deserve me." I mean, can we please stop right here and freak out? Because I thought he hung the moon and the stars, and for a while, I think he did. But things change, and things change so fast that I guess it's easier to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I know the real meaning is different, but tonight, for me, the meaning of that phrase is "You had your chance, you tried it - you'll never have to wonder what it would be like - you don't have to do that pining crap. You're good. You can move on now. You can get on to something better."
Which is really easy to say, right? I mean, I'm still ridiculous. But the fact that I can think these things, it's a really good sign. The fact that I can do them is equally crucial.
Something's changed in two weeks. It started changing before that, really, but it's even stronger now: this charged energy that's focused completely in myself. It's another shift in my attitude, and I like it, and I'm pretty sure I didn't have it at all a year ago, and I hope it stays. I don't think I had it yet two weeks ago. I think my friends and family and God and maybe even Victoria's Secret had some sort of combined confidence-inducing party last night because suddenly I feel like a new woman.
Walking around my bedroom, getting things settled in and laying on my bed with a new mattress pad, or changing clothes and looking in the mirror, I feel this queer confidence in myself. It's not quite pride, and it's not haughtiness -- it's something saucy.
But like I inferred above, maybe it's just the sexypants.
On the train with two bags and a bit of sweat down my back, that forced me to lean forward to let my backpack fall, I was able to text Natto honestly, when she mentioned the elephant that was hanging around. Truthfully, I told her, I don't want to date Kenny anymore, anyway -- I'm better than that, and his mouth was too big and so was that nonsense at the end. He's not mature enough for a relationship and he doesn't deserve me." I mean, can we please stop right here and freak out? Because I thought he hung the moon and the stars, and for a while, I think he did. But things change, and things change so fast that I guess it's easier to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. I know the real meaning is different, but tonight, for me, the meaning of that phrase is "You had your chance, you tried it - you'll never have to wonder what it would be like - you don't have to do that pining crap. You're good. You can move on now. You can get on to something better."
Which is really easy to say, right? I mean, I'm still ridiculous. But the fact that I can think these things, it's a really good sign. The fact that I can do them is equally crucial.
Something's changed in two weeks. It started changing before that, really, but it's even stronger now: this charged energy that's focused completely in myself. It's another shift in my attitude, and I like it, and I'm pretty sure I didn't have it at all a year ago, and I hope it stays. I don't think I had it yet two weeks ago. I think my friends and family and God and maybe even Victoria's Secret had some sort of combined confidence-inducing party last night because suddenly I feel like a new woman.
Walking around my bedroom, getting things settled in and laying on my bed with a new mattress pad, or changing clothes and looking in the mirror, I feel this queer confidence in myself. It's not quite pride, and it's not haughtiness -- it's something saucy.
But like I inferred above, maybe it's just the sexypants.