Love, Save the Empty
It's amazing to read my last post from a little over a year ago: all the women, who are independent, throw your hands up at maaaaaaeeeeee. Where the hell did that girl go? I think I need an intervention - and she needs to give it to me.
Surface: I have a wonderful job. I love my apartment - so spacious! I'm at my lowest weight since high school. Things are going great!
Reality: I hate my job. Ok, rephrase: I worked ridiculously long hours backing other people up and, well, basically taking it up the ass for the past 8 months. Finally now, I am regaining some semblance of work/life balance. However, now, every day I go to work, I count the hours until I can leave. I do love my apartment - it's so spacious because I live in one of the smallest cities I've ever lived in. I have exhausted all of my options here. I have been here for about 19 months and I have yet to find what I'm looking for. And it's definitely not due to lack of trying. I took a dance class (all other dancers: all high schoolers), joined a women's group (all married, northern Wisconsin women), joined a book club (all married, northern Wisconsin women with children), took a knitting class (positive: learned to knit, negative: youngest by at least 15 years), joined match.com (we'll discuss this later). Frankly, I'm burnt out on trying to make this area work for me. I am at my lowest weight because I gave up alcohol for Lent (go me!) but also because I haven't really regained my hearty appetite since Scott and I broke up. Lastly, I am incredibly lonely. Every single day.
"But Amanda, you broke up with Scott, didn't you?"
Fact - but... There's always a but. I did indeed break-up with Scott. Scott was a wonderful guy: the most loyal and trustworthy companion I'd ever been with. But. But every time I thought of us together for the long haul, something was askew. His ties and permanency here with Green Bay (and my strong distaste of the area), his introverted-ness/my extroverted-ness, our common or lackthereof common interests. Also, even though I never wanted to believe it time after time that he thought it would be an issue: our class differences. We grew up in completely different worlds. And I wasn't sure I was ready to leave mine.
It is the hardest thing in the world to break-up with someone you genuinely care about who seemingly hasn't done anything wrong. It's so much easier when the bastard cheats or treats you poorly. But how do you say, "I don't see this working forever," to the person who's been your best friend for the past 13 months? How do you say to that person that the concept of marriage terrifies you because there's a non-concrete something sitting in the pit of your stomach telling you that this isn't right? Well I'll tell you - you tell them it's over through sobs and tears - that the differences are too great and that it would've eventually become an issue in the future. And then you are ok for the first four days. After that, however, you think about that person every day thereafter and you feel like a horrible horrible human being for putting that wonderful individual through that break-up. Why couldn't you just be happy? Why couldn't you just settle down like the rest of the population? Why do you have something nagging in your heart telling you that you haven't lived your life yet?
I'm currently reading the book Quarterlife Crisis. Sounds fitting doesn't it? It's nice to read that other twenty-somethings apparently go through what I'm feeling and it's not just me. Glad to know I'm not crazy.
So I'm going to continue to use my "surface" definition when people ask, "how are you doing?" because ...let's be honest...no one wants to hear that your life is miserable. That's just plum depressing. I can only hope that I'll get out of Appleton in 2009. That has become my one and only New Years Resolution: the only one that matters. Til then, I'll continue to tread water and try to figure out why I feel like I'm living someone else's life.
Surface: I have a wonderful job. I love my apartment - so spacious! I'm at my lowest weight since high school. Things are going great!
Reality: I hate my job. Ok, rephrase: I worked ridiculously long hours backing other people up and, well, basically taking it up the ass for the past 8 months. Finally now, I am regaining some semblance of work/life balance. However, now, every day I go to work, I count the hours until I can leave. I do love my apartment - it's so spacious because I live in one of the smallest cities I've ever lived in. I have exhausted all of my options here. I have been here for about 19 months and I have yet to find what I'm looking for. And it's definitely not due to lack of trying. I took a dance class (all other dancers: all high schoolers), joined a women's group (all married, northern Wisconsin women), joined a book club (all married, northern Wisconsin women with children), took a knitting class (positive: learned to knit, negative: youngest by at least 15 years), joined match.com (we'll discuss this later). Frankly, I'm burnt out on trying to make this area work for me. I am at my lowest weight because I gave up alcohol for Lent (go me!) but also because I haven't really regained my hearty appetite since Scott and I broke up. Lastly, I am incredibly lonely. Every single day.
"But Amanda, you broke up with Scott, didn't you?"
Fact - but... There's always a but. I did indeed break-up with Scott. Scott was a wonderful guy: the most loyal and trustworthy companion I'd ever been with. But. But every time I thought of us together for the long haul, something was askew. His ties and permanency here with Green Bay (and my strong distaste of the area), his introverted-ness/my extroverted-ness, our common or lackthereof common interests. Also, even though I never wanted to believe it time after time that he thought it would be an issue: our class differences. We grew up in completely different worlds. And I wasn't sure I was ready to leave mine.
It is the hardest thing in the world to break-up with someone you genuinely care about who seemingly hasn't done anything wrong. It's so much easier when the bastard cheats or treats you poorly. But how do you say, "I don't see this working forever," to the person who's been your best friend for the past 13 months? How do you say to that person that the concept of marriage terrifies you because there's a non-concrete something sitting in the pit of your stomach telling you that this isn't right? Well I'll tell you - you tell them it's over through sobs and tears - that the differences are too great and that it would've eventually become an issue in the future. And then you are ok for the first four days. After that, however, you think about that person every day thereafter and you feel like a horrible horrible human being for putting that wonderful individual through that break-up. Why couldn't you just be happy? Why couldn't you just settle down like the rest of the population? Why do you have something nagging in your heart telling you that you haven't lived your life yet?
I'm currently reading the book Quarterlife Crisis. Sounds fitting doesn't it? It's nice to read that other twenty-somethings apparently go through what I'm feeling and it's not just me. Glad to know I'm not crazy.
So I'm going to continue to use my "surface" definition when people ask, "how are you doing?" because ...let's be honest...no one wants to hear that your life is miserable. That's just plum depressing. I can only hope that I'll get out of Appleton in 2009. That has become my one and only New Years Resolution: the only one that matters. Til then, I'll continue to tread water and try to figure out why I feel like I'm living someone else's life.