Saturday, October 19, 2013

Broken... up?

"WARNING: MEN, STAY AWAY" should be the sign I walk around with on my forehead.

I had a "boyfriend" from the age of 15 to about 4 months ago. I am 26. My first boyfriend I loved like he was my world. My second boyfriend I loved like he was my world. My third boyfriend I loved like he was my world. Not much time or space elapse between any of my relationships, at least not enough for me to know what it meant to be alone or what it meant to be "broken up." So, this last time when it happened and I didn't jump right into another relationship...

I was left with--

WHAT THE F* is a break up?
WHAT IS THIS BEING ALONE THING?
WHO THE HELL IS GOING TO WARM MY FEET AT NIGHT? I'M COLD.

Well, I discovered doubling up on socks is important. That will solve one of my problems. I also learned a lot about what being alone is not: IT IS DEFINITELY NOT DATING.

Immediately after my break up, I TRIED to find a substitute, a replacement, a someone. Theoretically, this wasn't hard. I was working as a hostess at this restaurant in the Mission of San Francisco. The running joke among the bus boys was that they could start a successful charity fund if they bet on my getting asked out or hit on at work. My boss once said it was a good thing to have me at the door. At first this was flattering and somewhat good for me, as I have always had an unrealistic self-image. So, I was giving my number to more guys than I could keep track of on my phone. Some of which were entered as "musician Mike" or "blonde mohawk dude." Those entries can get complicated.

In defense of myself, I never actually dated or responded to ALL of these guys except for one or two, or three I was actually interested in. For example, there was this boy from England I met and immediately was drawn to. I was curious about him and I still find him intriguing as I have to look up at least one word every time he e-mails me. Sometimes I wonder if he is an app on my phone. This is possible and interesting in itself. It is also exciting to be acquainted with someone on the other side of the world who also knows more vegetarians than christians. I have come to appreciate his friendship and I truly hope he is not just an app on my phone. (I would really need therapy.) However, we are both a safe distance from each other nonetheless. ha ha.

Then, there was this other boy who was so nice. He was my first "real date" ever. I had never been on a grown up date until him. Other than my crying for two hours up until about a half an hour before I was meeting him, it was pleasant, it was sweet, it was all the things you want a date to be. I went on a few of these "dates" with him until I realized he liked me... and I loved my ex... soooo that was going nowhere quickly. Even so, I STILL DATED. I met another boy in the Marina one day as I was walking around with my friend Angelica. He said something stupid and I must like being told stupid things, because the next thing I know I am hanging out with him (and crying every time I leave because he is NOT MY BOYFRIEND.)

The last date I went on was with this boy from Sweden... He broke me with this, "You seem really happy. Is there anything you would say is missing from your life?" He might as well have taken a saw to my heart. The first thing that came to my mind was a clear picture of me, my ex, and his family all laughing at the beach. I swallowed my yummy chowder, smiled and said, "No. I love my life." Because I do. I do love my life, but there IS something missing. That is what I have discovered being broken up is. It's the "something missing." The catch is that you wont find what is missing in other people. What's missing is gone. His family, the comfort I found in then is gone. Like a cozy sweater you WONT find again because you lost it.

What do you do when you lose a cozy sweater? Well, first you have to accept it's gone and someone else might wear it. If you are nice, you hope it keeps them warm. If you are hurt, you hope it doesn't fit or it falls to pieces. Then, you find other ways to get warm. Start a fire, wear your other sweaters, etc.  I guess you could buy a new one. But, it still might not fit right... or may not be the same material... or the right color... so you have to be ready for that... I'm not. At least not yet. So, clearly, I need a sign on my head. :)


& I discovered I am my world ❤️



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