Well, so far the New Year sucks, and it looks like 28 is going to feel about the same as 25 did.
You would think that after 20 odd hours of crying, vomitting and analyzing, one would feel just a tad better about their current situation. I haven't even hit the stage where I lay on my bed on my back, crank up some depressing indie music and threaten to run away and start a new life in a new city, so I guess that means that I've got a ways to go before all these tears are dried up, and utter exhaustion forces me into a much needed restful, dreamless sleep. It also means I've got a couple days to wait before I can keep food down, or analyze things in a clear, logical manner. I can't wait for that, because at the moment, my brain is my worst enemy, and my heart is a close second.
Forty-eight hours ago, I thought that I was happy, in love, and well on my way to settling down, moving in with my boyfriend, having kids and all that jazz. Thirty-six hours ago, it hit me that even though I wanted all of those things, more than anything, I was far from being on the road to Adultville, and I really needed to make the changes in my life that I for so long had wanted to change. No more sitting at The Pub every weekend. No more late nights, just because that's what the rest of the crowd was doing. Put into practice all the things I have told myself and others over the years about how to get yourself out of a social rut. Unfortunately, during this realization, I lost my boyfriend spontaneously, and all the wonderful things that came along with him. And that hurts. I was hoping we could grow together, and look after each other. But, maybe we need to grow separately, and look after ourselves.
Twelve hours ago, after ditching my girlfriends who wanted to take me out on the town and cheer me up, and then talking to Red, it hit me that I can do it. I can get out of this rut. I won't lose anything or anybody that I truly care about. All I will be losing is a lifestyle that I can no longer maintain. I can quit drinking. I will feel better, at least physically if I just say no, and stay home and do things that make me happy, like writing and sewing and having friends over to eat. I can take care of myself, and have learned how to look after myself, although I don't always do it. If I remove myself from the drama and the madness, no longer can anyone blame me for their drinking, their late nights. In doing that, I will have no reason to feel guilty about ruining people's lives, or more importantly, my own.
So maybe my brain is working a bit in my favour, however only in flashes. The rest of the time, I have been pulling the "poor, poor pitiful me" routine, wishing that I could just take everyone down with me. Which is why I didn't go out last night, and I am choosing to stay home, alone, for the time being. Just because I am hurting, doesn't give me the right to depress everyone else.
It's only been a day or so, and I already miss everything we had. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but what relationship is? I feel like I jumped the gun a bit, in breaking up with him so suddenly, even though I was feeling extremely hurt, and thought he disrespected me. I dread the thought of waking up without him every morning, and going to work without a kiss and an 'I love you' before I head out the door. I miss how excited I got, everytime I knew I was going to see him, or everytime I answered the phone and it was his voice on the other line. I will miss that sparkle in his eye, and the sly, but loving, looks he would give me when we were together, even if we were just sitting there watching TV, or playing with the cats. I will miss his family. I miss his cats. I miss his promises to make me eggs in the morning. I will miss how wonderful he made me feel about myself, and how well he took care of me, and made me take care of myself. I will miss his laugh and his silly jokes. I miss his smell, his curly hair, his lips, his skin. And not to be crass, but the thought of never having sex with him again, drives me crazy.
I promised myself, somewhat immaturely( or maybe prematurely?), years ago, that I would never, ever, allow myself to be put in a position where I could end up feeling this horrible, this confused, ever again. I realized this morning though, that although I feel like I am dying a little bit inside, I don't feel as bad as the last time I went through a major break-up. I keep telling myself, that I have some fantastic friends that are here for me, and eventually, I will be able to leave my bedroom, or answer the phone, without bursting into tears. I have proven already in life, that I can take care of myself, and am quite capable of going it alone. Such positivity, however little, could be my downfall, but we'll have to see how it goes. Because when it comes right down to it, I just don't want to go it alone. I want to have that partner in crime, that feeling that no matter what, I've got someone at home waiting for me, who loves me, and will help me take care of myself, and who will let me take care of them as well.