if i could get you back someday, please don't say you're going away.
Sunday morning I woke up in a fog. Joseph and I were supposed to have left for New York at 8 AM. Of course, I wound up waking up at 10 AM, and my head was swimming. He was sleeping, even though I was beginning to nag him to wake up, and started poking him without relent.
Suddenly, it was noon. We were awoken at the same time by a large, noisy truck passing our bedroom window. I had fallen asleep again somehow, even though I was beyond nervous and don't remember dozing off. It seemed like a ridiculous idea to try to embark on a 12-hour drive from Knoxville to Brooklyn at that time, so we decided to stay in town, postponing the trip until Monday. The waking hours of that day were, by far, the hardest and most grueling ones that I've ever endured.
Sunday dragged out things in my mind that had not yet come to light. I knew I was going to have to deal with, A. Moving 12 hours away from my boyfriend of three years, and in doing so, end our relationship, B. Have to move back to New York City, where the cost of living is exponentially higher than what I had become accustomed to in Knoxville (with no college degree, mind you, and nothing but restaurant experience under my belt) C. Try to piece together the shattered relationships I have with every member of my immediate family D. Rely on the kindness of friends for at least the next month (and I hate having to rely on anybody for anything) and E. Do ALL of this more or less by myself, drawing upon a hidden reserve of strength and determination that I wasn't entirely sure I possessed. Not to mention the fact that I've only recently become medicated again (for Bipolar II disorder), and the medication I'm on has not, even yet, started to fully do its thing.
I was in shock, really. I knew all of these things in my mind; I knew what I was going to have to do. I'd registered them and itemized them, as one might do with their grocery list, but I had not yet absorbed them. Sometimes things in my mind only exist in one part of it. When they cross over to yet another piece of my brain that is capable of translating emotions, I get hit hard and fast -- it's like a turbulent, hormonal tidal wave of bat shit insanity. I get hit all at once; smothered, if you will. I never allow myself anytime to feel things out because emotions seem like ridiculous nuisances particular to 5 year old children. I can never handle it when hit, and the more heart I have invested in the situation, obviously, the harder hit I get.
I am sensitive, and no matter how much I subconsciously stave off the act of processing emotions, I'm bound to break down at some point and pour my heart out in some way or another. Emotional ones are often the last reactions I have pertaining to any piece of information I take in, and only after i've analyzed that information through and through from every angle. I wish I could be more comfortable with the fact that I simply am human.
The drive on Monday found me in the passenger seat of his car, still reeling from being drowned in my own emotions. The 5 hour drive through Virginia was the worst part -- I was constantly crying, whether it be a couple of silent tears or full-on, head in my hands weeping. We were both crying. The hardest part of this whole thing, and the hardest part about leaving him, is that I didn't want to. I still don't. Neither does he want to leave me. I just wanted to work on myself, and in order to do so, we had to break up. He wants to work on himself as well, and moving to New York City with me is not the thing that's going to enable him to. Neither one of us believe, period, in long-distance relationships. What's the point?
We got into Brooklyn at around 9 PM, Monday night.
Joseph left yesterday, Friday, at about 1 PM.
We had a great few days together in Brooklyn. .
I'm staying with my friend Anna and her husband. They've been more than kind and generous in letting me stay here. They don't care how long it's going to take for me to get a job, or what I do, or how I do it. They just want me to be happy and comfortable, and I am to whatever extent is possible at this time. I've already got a job offer from a fancy chocolate place in Midtown Manhattan (what what?! a job offer within less than 48 hours of looking!) and I'm sure things are going to be more settled soon. I'll find more peace with each morning. The nights will be harder, and will continue to be hard.
Tomorrow morning marks a full week back in New York City. I don't feel like I've really woken up yet, at all from last Sunday. This has been the longest week/day of my life. I guess, emotionally, I'm a bit behind still yet.
Suddenly, it was noon. We were awoken at the same time by a large, noisy truck passing our bedroom window. I had fallen asleep again somehow, even though I was beyond nervous and don't remember dozing off. It seemed like a ridiculous idea to try to embark on a 12-hour drive from Knoxville to Brooklyn at that time, so we decided to stay in town, postponing the trip until Monday. The waking hours of that day were, by far, the hardest and most grueling ones that I've ever endured.
Sunday dragged out things in my mind that had not yet come to light. I knew I was going to have to deal with, A. Moving 12 hours away from my boyfriend of three years, and in doing so, end our relationship, B. Have to move back to New York City, where the cost of living is exponentially higher than what I had become accustomed to in Knoxville (with no college degree, mind you, and nothing but restaurant experience under my belt) C. Try to piece together the shattered relationships I have with every member of my immediate family D. Rely on the kindness of friends for at least the next month (and I hate having to rely on anybody for anything) and E. Do ALL of this more or less by myself, drawing upon a hidden reserve of strength and determination that I wasn't entirely sure I possessed. Not to mention the fact that I've only recently become medicated again (for Bipolar II disorder), and the medication I'm on has not, even yet, started to fully do its thing.
I was in shock, really. I knew all of these things in my mind; I knew what I was going to have to do. I'd registered them and itemized them, as one might do with their grocery list, but I had not yet absorbed them. Sometimes things in my mind only exist in one part of it. When they cross over to yet another piece of my brain that is capable of translating emotions, I get hit hard and fast -- it's like a turbulent, hormonal tidal wave of bat shit insanity. I get hit all at once; smothered, if you will. I never allow myself anytime to feel things out because emotions seem like ridiculous nuisances particular to 5 year old children. I can never handle it when hit, and the more heart I have invested in the situation, obviously, the harder hit I get.
I am sensitive, and no matter how much I subconsciously stave off the act of processing emotions, I'm bound to break down at some point and pour my heart out in some way or another. Emotional ones are often the last reactions I have pertaining to any piece of information I take in, and only after i've analyzed that information through and through from every angle. I wish I could be more comfortable with the fact that I simply am human.
The drive on Monday found me in the passenger seat of his car, still reeling from being drowned in my own emotions. The 5 hour drive through Virginia was the worst part -- I was constantly crying, whether it be a couple of silent tears or full-on, head in my hands weeping. We were both crying. The hardest part of this whole thing, and the hardest part about leaving him, is that I didn't want to. I still don't. Neither does he want to leave me. I just wanted to work on myself, and in order to do so, we had to break up. He wants to work on himself as well, and moving to New York City with me is not the thing that's going to enable him to. Neither one of us believe, period, in long-distance relationships. What's the point?
We got into Brooklyn at around 9 PM, Monday night.
Joseph left yesterday, Friday, at about 1 PM.
We had a great few days together in Brooklyn. .
I'm staying with my friend Anna and her husband. They've been more than kind and generous in letting me stay here. They don't care how long it's going to take for me to get a job, or what I do, or how I do it. They just want me to be happy and comfortable, and I am to whatever extent is possible at this time. I've already got a job offer from a fancy chocolate place in Midtown Manhattan (what what?! a job offer within less than 48 hours of looking!) and I'm sure things are going to be more settled soon. I'll find more peace with each morning. The nights will be harder, and will continue to be hard.
Tomorrow morning marks a full week back in New York City. I don't feel like I've really woken up yet, at all from last Sunday. This has been the longest week/day of my life. I guess, emotionally, I'm a bit behind still yet.