I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it.
What is life without a bit of heartache, some mistakes-- ok, a lot of mistakes-- but, most importantly: fun?
Life's turn of events, or at least mine, are basically one ball of irony, karma and some kicks on the face. Thankfully, I've always been a strong person. Sure, there are incidents that momentarily (or for about 10 months in my case) knock me on my ass; but I prevail and dust myself on and try, try again. Do I learn from these mistakes? Eh.... you be the judge of that.
But maybe try not to judge...
I was proud of myself. I thought I "handled" my breakup like most women should: I holed myself up for a few months, focused on what I wanted in my life and where/how I wanted said life to occur, ignored the male species (eh, for the most part) and surrounded myself with people whom I trust, love and those who made me feel good about myself. After all, this is what I think women should do after a breakup. Once they feel that their hearts are mended, they should go out into the dating world, meet some men and begin a heated affair with a coworker!
Oh no, wait............... one shouldn't do that.
Well, I did.
Oh, Em....
This little affair of mine had impeccable timing. Just like my stupid ex. It was August. I was kicking ass and taking names at work. I was getting into the groove of the Northern California lifestyle (ha) and was finally at a place where I no longer thought of the prick. All in all, I was happy. The D-bag and I hadn't spoken to each other in over 6 months (progress!). This was probably because the last words I said to him were to "F*ck Off, eat shit and die" and "never talk to me again." Or something like that.
Well, it's as though the douche suddenly realized that I was no longer miserable, so of course he decides to email me out of the blue-- while I'm sitting on a beach in Hawaii, keep in mind. In this godforsaken mother%☁#!☂✄!ing email, he tells me everything I needed to hear 6+ months prior. Everything.
I wanted to hire that hit man all over again. (He should be on speed dial at this point, right?) I was furious. Heartbroken. And it sort of rocked my world briefly. At this point, I had gotten used to the idea of not thinking about him. I no longer wondered in agony what/who he was doing on a Saturday night. We/I had achieved the space that we needed to move on.
That's the thing about men: they're idiots. According to my ex, a seemingly sweet gesture like his email, regardless of how infuriatingly tardy that it may have been, seemed like the right thing to do. When he sent that, we all know that he was thinking to himself, "this is going to make things right. I'm a good person now."
That's the thing about men: they're idiots. According to my ex, a seemingly sweet gesture like his email, regardless of how infuriatingly tardy that it may have been, seemed like the right thing to do. When he sent that, we all know that he was thinking to himself, "this is going to make things right. I'm a good person now."
Gee. Give yourself a big pat on the back, asshat.
Long story short, we exchanged a few dozen emails over the course of a week or so. Yes, I should not have even responded to him. But I still had a hell of a lot of anger to spew at him, considering the fact that he and his temper never allowed me to get a word in. And it was as if his temper had finally subsided and he was remorseful. About goddamn time.
I will hand him this:
A loaded grenade. JK!
A loaded grenade. JK!
Normally when we would communicate-- be it email or in person-- his emotionally-constipated British temper would implode and cockblock anything that I had to say.... It doesn't take a psychology major with a minor in rocket science to know that this kind of behavior does not equate to a solid relationship and fabulous communication skills.
So while I was reading these recent emails of his, that were full of remorse, regret and *gasp!* sincerity, I didn't quite know what to think of it. And since his guard and defense finally seemed to be down, I took the opportunity and told him everything he needed to hear 6+ months ago. And my emails most definitely lacked remorse, kindness and zen. But he needed to hear it. And he listened. I was entirely angry and confused at the time being and, as a result, told him that I was unable to communicate and be friends with him at the moment; if any moment. He was upset and let down (now he knew how I felt all that time), but he understood and agreed to leave me alone.
We said goodbye.
Yet again.
And it stung.
A few days went by and I realized that I had made the right decision. And I was fine. But then I decided to go and make a bad decision: enter ridiculous, naughty, people-warned-me-about-but-I-was-going-to-do-it-anyway-because-I'm-a-stubborn-bitch affair with a coworker.
He and I met and there was instant chemistry. Not chemistry like, you-are-my-soulmate-and-let's-run-away-together chemistry, but more like, I'm-hurting-and-I-need-a-distraction, soooooo-you'll do chemistry. And that's exactly what he was: a distraction. He was the exact opposite of my ex: not a banker, laid back, funny, sweet and not so wound up like I tend to be (which basically meant that he was a bit of an unmotivated West Coast dude, but that was for me to find out later on).
When we were first interacting, I certainly was crushing on him, but refused to initiate anything due to the fact that he had a girlfriend--
Forgot to mention that part in the beginning, didn't I?.....
Moving on.....
So despite our best efforts to ignore each other (or his best efforts, I should say-- let's face it, we gals know how to dangle it and be infuriating teases when we want to be), it eventually happened. And I told him from the get-go that I was only in this for the F-U-N. I informed him that since I recently had my heart ripped out, stomped on, chewed up, swallowed and regurgitated, I would not get hurt in all of this. I was made of stone, baby. A vault. Locked down.
And that I was. But he refused to listen or believe me.
We had a blast for about 2 months. I won't get into detail, but it was Hot, Hot, Hot. And most importantly, fun. But then of course, like all good things must come to an end, it's as though the karmic universe was finally fed up with our bullshit and shit began to hit the fan. Not only would we argue about petty, insignificant things (and people wonder why I'm perfectly content with being single), but he started to get jealous if I would hang out with other people and would try to inquire amongst our mutual friends about whether or not I was seeing other guys....
I know what you're all thinking: I need to be realistic. And I am. Finally.
Recently, I ended things with him; as kindly as I possibly could. I noticed that he was starting to develop strong feelings for me, and I wasn't feeling/doing the same. It was nothing against him, I just finally realized that it was time for me to get my shit together; and stop playing these ridiculous-- albeit fun and exciting-- G-A-M-E-S with men. It sounds harsh, but after the whole heart ripped out, chewed up, regurgitated thing, it felt good to be the one doing the heart-breaking. And, as it turned out, my conscious finally caved and I realized what I was doing was wrong. Yay, I'm not a total asshole.....
Nonetheless, I did learn a lot from all of this. Mostly, I realized just how far I've come in a year. I went from medicating myself with sleeping pills every Saturday night just so I would stop thinking about what my ex was up to without me, to being able to think about my ex at any given time and actually chuckle to myself regarding all that we've been through. It's liberating to realize that even though my heart was once shattered into a million pieces, it's now completely mended and stronger than ever.
Yes, it's still bruised and hesitant to trust just anyone.
But that's what being strong is about:
One must allow themselves to love again.
To fall again.
Even to get hurt again.
