Sweet Emotion
WARNING: Do not read this post. This post is just an exercise in getting a bunch of tangled up thoughts down in text in the hopes of making some sense of them. You're welcome to read if you want to, but it's not really for anyone but me. I promise I'll be back in form tomorrow with a rant on something that really pisses me off about comic books.
Back in September, I started dating a wonderful girl. I wasn't even all that interested in her, but we had "five-starred" each others' profiles on OKCupid, and I figured I'd give her a shot mostly on the basis of her professed love of barbecue.
She turned out to be an incredible woman. She was intelligent, witty, engaging, and just plain fun to be around. Over the course of six weeks, I fell very hard for her, and I grew so comfortable and happy with her. Whether it was a night out at a roller derby or an afternoon on the couch cuddling and playing Mega Man, every minute I spent with her was bliss. She seemed to enjoy me almost as much, and she made me feel truly appreciated. Around her, I was the happiest I have been in several years.
Unfortunately, the relationship ended as quickly as it started, due to complications in her life. I don't know a lot of the details, nor do I care to; all I know is that, as Megatron said in the (1986) Transformers movie, "It's over, Prime." Except for the "Prime" part.
It's been three weeks since the break-up, and I'm still somewhat hung up on it. It doesn't seem like a six-week fling would have this kind of aftershock, but this lady really was something else. A great activity partner with a killer sense of humor (I couldn't believe it when I learned that she owns Anchorman: Wake Up, Ron Burgundy), and quite frankly, she was dynamite in the sack. Oh, and she also scored me some of the best damn [name of illegal substance deleted] of which I've ever partaken.
I think part of the reason this has hit me so hard is that I did not see it coming at all. Apart from all of the fun we had together (and the fact that I seemed to get on well with her friends, and she with mine), she took good care of me. For a while, my foot was injured (the same mystery ailment that pops up every now and again), and she would not hesitate to get me breakfast from Dunkin' Donuts, or call and offer to bring dinner when she would come over.
Two days before she broke up with me, I went to the emergency room simply to get treatment for my foot. When I casually informed her of my whereabouts via text message, she immediately offered to leave her job and come be "by [my] side." I assured her that this was not necessary. However, the mere fact that she offered truly warmed my heart. Though I already held her in very high regard, that moment made me see that she how special she really is, and I began to think that I wanted to be with her for quite a while. Don't get me wrong, I was by no means thinking of proposals or anything, but it was the moment where I started to think that this could be a real, long-term thing.
It wasn't.
The preceding line is to be read as Ron Howard narrating an episode of "Arrested Development."
I am confident that I will eventually move on, and meet someone else special with whom I can make a real connection. But I mourn the loss of this woman because we just seemed so perfect for each other. At present, it is difficult to imagine finding a woman who is as great a match for me as she was.
Another source of frustration comes from the fact that (as far as I know) I didn't even do anything wrong. The reasons that she and I can't be together are completely beyond my control. This is something that is very difficult for the mind (for my mind, at least) to accept. Though the rational side of me knows that I must simply accept this fate, the naively optimistic part of me keeps running through things I could do or say to make things work. As if I could just pull a Lloyd Dobler: grab a snazzy trenchcoat, boombox, and blare some Peter Gabriel outside her window. Or perhaps a more appropriate song for her, maybe something by T.I.
I want to look her in her beautiful eyes and tell her that I would happily sit through a hundred Sucker Free Countdowns, so long as she was cuddled up alongside me the entire time.
As it is, I have to grow up and learn to live with the fact that I'll never again get to see that radiant smile of hers as I hold her in my arms. Like I said, I know I will get over her eventually. But as of right now, I just don't WANT to.
Also, Quantum of Solace sucked. So a lot of people are disappointing me lately.
Back in September, I started dating a wonderful girl. I wasn't even all that interested in her, but we had "five-starred" each others' profiles on OKCupid, and I figured I'd give her a shot mostly on the basis of her professed love of barbecue.
She turned out to be an incredible woman. She was intelligent, witty, engaging, and just plain fun to be around. Over the course of six weeks, I fell very hard for her, and I grew so comfortable and happy with her. Whether it was a night out at a roller derby or an afternoon on the couch cuddling and playing Mega Man, every minute I spent with her was bliss. She seemed to enjoy me almost as much, and she made me feel truly appreciated. Around her, I was the happiest I have been in several years.
Unfortunately, the relationship ended as quickly as it started, due to complications in her life. I don't know a lot of the details, nor do I care to; all I know is that, as Megatron said in the (1986) Transformers movie, "It's over, Prime." Except for the "Prime" part.
It's been three weeks since the break-up, and I'm still somewhat hung up on it. It doesn't seem like a six-week fling would have this kind of aftershock, but this lady really was something else. A great activity partner with a killer sense of humor (I couldn't believe it when I learned that she owns Anchorman: Wake Up, Ron Burgundy), and quite frankly, she was dynamite in the sack. Oh, and she also scored me some of the best damn [name of illegal substance deleted] of which I've ever partaken.
I think part of the reason this has hit me so hard is that I did not see it coming at all. Apart from all of the fun we had together (and the fact that I seemed to get on well with her friends, and she with mine), she took good care of me. For a while, my foot was injured (the same mystery ailment that pops up every now and again), and she would not hesitate to get me breakfast from Dunkin' Donuts, or call and offer to bring dinner when she would come over.
Two days before she broke up with me, I went to the emergency room simply to get treatment for my foot. When I casually informed her of my whereabouts via text message, she immediately offered to leave her job and come be "by [my] side." I assured her that this was not necessary. However, the mere fact that she offered truly warmed my heart. Though I already held her in very high regard, that moment made me see that she how special she really is, and I began to think that I wanted to be with her for quite a while. Don't get me wrong, I was by no means thinking of proposals or anything, but it was the moment where I started to think that this could be a real, long-term thing.
It wasn't.
The preceding line is to be read as Ron Howard narrating an episode of "Arrested Development."
I am confident that I will eventually move on, and meet someone else special with whom I can make a real connection. But I mourn the loss of this woman because we just seemed so perfect for each other. At present, it is difficult to imagine finding a woman who is as great a match for me as she was.
Another source of frustration comes from the fact that (as far as I know) I didn't even do anything wrong. The reasons that she and I can't be together are completely beyond my control. This is something that is very difficult for the mind (for my mind, at least) to accept. Though the rational side of me knows that I must simply accept this fate, the naively optimistic part of me keeps running through things I could do or say to make things work. As if I could just pull a Lloyd Dobler: grab a snazzy trenchcoat, boombox, and blare some Peter Gabriel outside her window. Or perhaps a more appropriate song for her, maybe something by T.I.
I want to look her in her beautiful eyes and tell her that I would happily sit through a hundred Sucker Free Countdowns, so long as she was cuddled up alongside me the entire time.
As it is, I have to grow up and learn to live with the fact that I'll never again get to see that radiant smile of hers as I hold her in my arms. Like I said, I know I will get over her eventually. But as of right now, I just don't WANT to.
Also, Quantum of Solace sucked. So a lot of people are disappointing me lately.