Grey's Anatomy
So I find it slightly childish to sit here and relate my life to a television show, but I guess it's a television show worth watching if it makes me think about the choices I've made.
If any of you watched the finale of Grey's tonight, you'll know what I'm talking about. The scene at the "prom" where Meredith and Derek are looking at each other from across the room. Had Peter and I still been dating Teja and Joe, that is what my Irish dance formal would have looked like. And I would have been miserable.
It's taken me forever, but slowly I'm coming to terms with this whole situation. My life is starting to get back in order. There are still a lot of things that need to work themselves out, and a lot of things I need to work out for myself before anything gets (more) serious than it is, but I guess I feel like things are getting stable.
Joe and I tried to make things work. And I'm still upset when I think about what we had and how such a great thing had to end so horribly. And I'm still very upset that Carlene was there for every night I didn't come home, every night I didn't sleep, every meal that I couldn't eat, every teary, painful conversation...saw me miserable, sick, exhausted and went to comfort Joe. Not that he didn't need it...but it makes me wonder where her loyalties (and feelings) were long before Joe and I broke up. I don't think things will ever get to be the same between us. She wasn't open with me, she didn't tell me things were going on, she didn't attempt to help me through anything like she did with Joe and she lived with me and is still living with me. There is no sympathy there. Her life is intact and I get the feeling that's all she cares about.
I don't want to hear about how things are going to be so awkward for her. What about me? I have to watch my exboyfriend with my roommate, probably listen to them at night across the hall, watch her get invited to all the parties with her friends and his friends who used to be people who would include me but now just don't give a damn.
You know, I tried. I tried to make things with Joe work. We had plans to try to make things work. But then they didn't happen...so first, I tried not to hurt anyone. Then I tried to make it better. Then I tried to be the better person when no one would speak to me. It hasn't really gotten me too far except the satisfaction of knowing that I can deal with situations like an adult and most of the people who I used to speak to can't.
I am happy with Peter. I love my dance friends and I don't know where I would be without them. But it's so hard to have this staring me in the face and have them acting like I shouldn't care because I have someone else now. I wish I could not care. I wish I could be happy for them. But I'm not. This horrible, awful, mean part of me wants it to all crash and burn and blow up in their faces just so they know what it feels like. So she knows what it feels like to be rejected by the group of people who call her a friend.
I swear to god I don't mean to be this vindictive. I just hate how I can't get over it and I can't just be happy, and how they won't talk to me. I just want to scream that I still exist and I'm still here, and you better be nice because you're going to see me all the time next year.
I hate how being happy has become a competition. And I hate pretending everything is fine, because it's not.
If this is karma's version of revenge, I swear to god I'm never messing with it again...although right now I'm inclined to say it was worth it.
If any of you watched the finale of Grey's tonight, you'll know what I'm talking about. The scene at the "prom" where Meredith and Derek are looking at each other from across the room. Had Peter and I still been dating Teja and Joe, that is what my Irish dance formal would have looked like. And I would have been miserable.
It's taken me forever, but slowly I'm coming to terms with this whole situation. My life is starting to get back in order. There are still a lot of things that need to work themselves out, and a lot of things I need to work out for myself before anything gets (more) serious than it is, but I guess I feel like things are getting stable.
Joe and I tried to make things work. And I'm still upset when I think about what we had and how such a great thing had to end so horribly. And I'm still very upset that Carlene was there for every night I didn't come home, every night I didn't sleep, every meal that I couldn't eat, every teary, painful conversation...saw me miserable, sick, exhausted and went to comfort Joe. Not that he didn't need it...but it makes me wonder where her loyalties (and feelings) were long before Joe and I broke up. I don't think things will ever get to be the same between us. She wasn't open with me, she didn't tell me things were going on, she didn't attempt to help me through anything like she did with Joe and she lived with me and is still living with me. There is no sympathy there. Her life is intact and I get the feeling that's all she cares about.
I don't want to hear about how things are going to be so awkward for her. What about me? I have to watch my exboyfriend with my roommate, probably listen to them at night across the hall, watch her get invited to all the parties with her friends and his friends who used to be people who would include me but now just don't give a damn.
You know, I tried. I tried to make things with Joe work. We had plans to try to make things work. But then they didn't happen...so first, I tried not to hurt anyone. Then I tried to make it better. Then I tried to be the better person when no one would speak to me. It hasn't really gotten me too far except the satisfaction of knowing that I can deal with situations like an adult and most of the people who I used to speak to can't.
I am happy with Peter. I love my dance friends and I don't know where I would be without them. But it's so hard to have this staring me in the face and have them acting like I shouldn't care because I have someone else now. I wish I could not care. I wish I could be happy for them. But I'm not. This horrible, awful, mean part of me wants it to all crash and burn and blow up in their faces just so they know what it feels like. So she knows what it feels like to be rejected by the group of people who call her a friend.
I swear to god I don't mean to be this vindictive. I just hate how I can't get over it and I can't just be happy, and how they won't talk to me. I just want to scream that I still exist and I'm still here, and you better be nice because you're going to see me all the time next year.
I hate how being happy has become a competition. And I hate pretending everything is fine, because it's not.
If this is karma's version of revenge, I swear to god I'm never messing with it again...although right now I'm inclined to say it was worth it.