Love's Labour's Lost

Hmmm... Here we are again ladies and gents. Let's have a quick catch up. I did indeed go home last weekend for a breather. It was exactly what I needed. ***College Quick Tip: It's okay to be homesick and need to go home. You're taking a huge leap by moving out and going to far off places. Needing to have your mommy and daddy dote on you for a few days isn't something to be ashamed of. And chances are a little bit of them miss making your favorite meal for you.

I came back on Monday and things had settled. I could tell people were still very sensitive, and I am treading softly around the dorms. This week was productive. I went on a really nice date, partied with the girls, and (hopefully) did well on a midterm. So now y'all have an update.

Last weekend, as expected, My Ex called. The drunk dial one that I told to call me in a week. Well last weekend, while I was home (not that he knew that), he called me. Four times. Twice on Saturday, the day I had specified, and twice on Sunday, just to make sure I really wasn't going to answer. The fourth time he called he left a voice mail. I told myself I would not listen to it. I lied. I listened to it with my roommate on Monday.

I keep telling myself I hate him, but every time I say it, it sounds more forced. What is SO wrong about My Ex is that he was the closest I ever got to Mr. Right. He was SO not Mr. Right in hindsight, but I can't deny that I once loved him. I'll admit, maybe a bit grudgingly, that I fantasized about little half Armenian prematurely balding babies running around. Or watching us growing old together. I'm not that kind of girl. I didn't used think like that.

So many things were wrong with that relationship. So many. And I'm trying to decide how to... share with out just bitching it out. Okay, cryptic explanation: He hurt me and I forgave him. Then he broke my heart. Then I... I sacrificed my dignity, my self respect, my innocence and my heart for a man who told me point blank he didn't love me. I sacrificed those things AFTER he told me he didn't love me.

I told myself I had to take what I got. That beggars can't be choosers. If this is what I had to do, who I had to be, to be with him, even if I knew it meant nothing, I would do it.

THAT'S why I hate him. Not because of what he ever did to me. Because when I try to explain what happened I realize I'm not the only girl that has been screwed by a guy. I've realized, it's not what he did, but what he made me do. I negotiated my happiness, my morals, my well-being for a man who I had to hope would call me first.

When I finally realized that I didn't want a man who called me first, but that I wanted a man that called my only, it was too late. I was ripped to shreds. I didn't want love, I didn't want him, I didn't want little balding half Armenians, I didn't want to go on living what I had created.

I needed out and when I told him, he laughed and accepted it. He moved on. And even though I ended it, I felt no closure. I felt no satisfaction. I felt nothing. I felt numb. Like I was watching myself live my life, and I felt like screaming "You are so much better! You screwed up kid, but you are still so much better then this!".

So all these feelings I've repressed came out this week. I could've picked up the phone. Some might say that it would've given me the closure I needed. But I created my own closure. I spent months telling myself I hated My Ex and eventually the numbness turned into anger and I can work with that, that's an emotion with substance. Maybe in six months, maybe in a year, maybe in ten years I'll want to talk to My Ex. But right now I need to protect myself. Because I know what I felt for My Ex six months ago didn't just evaporate. I still need time to readjust.

Last week I went on a date. This week went on a date. Both were nice and both were fun. Nothing is going to come of either of them... The first guy was super nice and I thought things went really well. But he never called. I finally couldn't take it anymore, and hey we're all equals here, so I texted him to see how he was (super non-chalant). He told me he was already seeing someone else. Poop. So maybe a really great friendship will come out of that... Or maybe he just won't ever call me again. I hate being a girl.

This week's guy was also really nice. He had really good intentions. Ugh that sounds awful. He's not my type. Fuck, that's not any better. It's not him it was me. Jeezzzz... I'm such a bitch. Truth be told it was probably the best, most legitimate date I've ever been on. Like we're talking candle lit restaurant, appetizers, gourmet chocolates for dessert and I cringe at the thought of how much dough he dropped to take me out. He's just a kid after all, he doesn't shit cash for chrissakes... Crap, this is not making me feel any better. Okay so why is nothing coming from what I have described as a great date? I have no idea. Lies. I totally know. How do I put this?...

My cursor has been blinking in the same spot for five minutes and the only thing I can think to write is "I'm such a bitch".

He was very attached. I met him last Monday, we went out this Tuesday and I just got that clingy vibe. I told myself clingy was different, not bad. But the warning signs were there and I couldn't ignore that gnawing in my stomach when they appeared. He was so nice, and any other girl would've loved it; loved the attention.

Here's how my friend explained it to me to make sense of why I couldn't dig on this guy. I'm a sloth. I'm very attached myself. I need to find a tree that I will hang out with, and I won't ever need to leave that tree because he'll have everything I need; food, shelter, love and everything else. It will be me the sloth and my man the tree and we will be happy just the two of us. The guy I went on a date with is a sloth. He needs someone else, someone tree-like. We sloths can't hang out together because we'd just cling to each other and like fall into a swam and drown or something (it's a metaphor, people, go with it). So nothing is really wrong with either of us, we just are two incompatible sloths.

That makes me feel better about everything. All my Love's Labour's Lost. Mine, and everyone else's. Go and find your sloth/tree and it'll all work out for the best. As for me. I'm tree hunting and trying to get out of my funk. I'd like to say that everyday gets a little bit better, but it's more like I have my good days and my bad days.