An emptiness like this has become commonplace among my generation. That gnawing awareness that there is a hole inside nothing is filling.
I always seem to forget the most important words you ever said to me.
It was back in June. I was still on bed rest after having our son. You had just been up to visit, finally, for the first time that past weekend. It was not a pleasant weekend, not at all. Conversation was tense, you neglected to tell me that you had brought *her* with you, even though I specifically asked you to come alone. There was a confrontation about that, and I was left more than a little unhappy.
Three days later you decided to get drunk and call me. For three hours you yelled at me, talked gibberish, and finally admitted everything I already knew. You got mad when I told you that none of it was a surprise, but that I was still hurt at the betrayal I felt occurred. It was admitted to me that you were with her, and that every goal you held would be met, with her by your side. Claims were made that this was all being done for our son, but when I begged you to move closer that was out of the question.
Finally, those words that should have set me free the moment you said them, were made public.
“I don’t think that we can ever be together again. The wounds just run too deep. We’ve both hurt each other too much.”
You cheated on me almost every year we were together. You told me lie after lie and then got mad if I would not believe them. Yet I hurt you as badly as you hurt me. You’re, of course, referring to the time where I messaged that one ex from your phone and told her to leave you the hell alone. After you spent three months going behind my back setting up a relationship with her. When you were caught, you chose me…and yet this girl was still messaging your phone. Yes, I told her off; no, I didn’t tell her it was me. What would have been gained from that? She would have messaged you the next night to tell you how awful I was being. Forget that nonsense.
Are you really comparing the things I did in response to you, with the things you proactively did to me? Apparently so. I also found out that you’ve told everyone about me, and they agree that what I did was worse.
So basically, everyone in Columbia is a pack of liars and cheats. I will keep that in mind and steer clear of the place.
It’s becoming harder and harder for me to not make this blog a personal one. I desperately didn’t want that, I wanted to be able to find something more important to write about. But until I can shake this depression and anxiety, my mind is set on repeat.
It began on Christmas Morning. I woke up with this nagging voice in my head that kept reminding me “you’ll never be what your ex wants.” I quietly thanked it for the reminder and attempted to go on with my day. It was supposed to be about my child, not about me. Still, the voice relented “you could lose 80lbs and he still wouldn’t have any interest in you-other than to use you.” By now I’m more than ready to beat my brains in with the nearest blunt object. The intrusive memories are coming one after another and before long I’ve got to sit down and cry for a moment.
As the tears run down my cheeks, I am aware of the fact that I don’t really know why I am crying. I broke up with my ex back in May of 2015 and, while we have a child together, things have not been easy. I go from hating him to loving him, and right as I was about to give birth things really came to a head. It was not pretty, and the damage was vast. Recently he found himself in a bit of trouble, and I thought that we might be starting to recover from the events of this summer.
I was so horribly wrong.
To be continued….
When I first met you I knew that you would be in my life forever. It wasn’t clear whether you would be a friend or lover, but there was an instant attraction that certainly ran deep. I found myself drawn to your presence, happy to see your face if even more a moment. Ever minute of my day needed to be spent with you, it seemed; and I did everything in my power to make that happen.
We were friends for a year before our friendship turned to more. It seemed like the longest, most tumultuous year of my life. I’d developed feelings far faster than I had anticipated and it was torture trying to play it cool around you. I wanted to be with you, I was positive that I could make you happy. Happier than any of the other girls that were always hanging around. We talked about everything. Spent hours hanging outside your apartment in my car. We listened to music and talked about anything that came to mind.
We shared every detail of our lives together, and after my breakup with my fiance, I moved in with you as “just friends.” We worked together, and we played together. It was surreal to me; I honestly thought that I had finally found “the one” for me. The person who would always be there for me. Even when we were still just friends, I just knew that the hints you were giving to me indicated that I was the one for you, too.
We made things official on the first of April and I should have known then that this was just one giant joke. It was just under a year from the day I had first met you, and I was in heaven. I thought it would be smooth sailing from here on out. After putting in almost a year of effort…hours and hours of time spent honing our friendship to the point where everyone knew we were best friends. When we finally started dating, it seemed so natural that people were surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner.
If I could go back to that time now, I would do thing so, so, different.
Sometimes Writer’s Block isn’t about not being able to write. There are times where the problem is, what you need to write about and the things you actually write are not one and the same. While your mind tells you over and over to work on your manuscript, your heart is stuck on writing your personal journal.
Pages and pages of mindless drivel. Free thought experiments that always lead to the same topic. The subject at the back and the front of your mind ever day. It is exhausting to so totally focus on one topic and think it to death. Every conversation connected to this thought will be relived, analyzed for any hidden meanings, and then placed back on the shelf until its time to revisit it once more.
My mind is already troubled by events of the New Year. I was hoping that 2018 would be the year I broke out of the cycle and things started to look up for me. While we are less than a month in, I become less and less optimistic.
I don’t know how to look for happiness in a place it doesn’t exist.
Better late than never!
This year I decided to keep the list simple and to the point. Coincidentally, my goals for this year very much mirror the goals i made, and completed, two years ago.
1. Run 15k. In 2015 I ran the Hot Chocolate 15k for the Ronald McDonald house up in Minneapolis. It was done in memory of my nephew, whom we lost in 2014 to a very rare genetic disorder. It is a charity that is near and dear to my heart, and i was proud of the fact that I completed the race.
2. Publish my writing. At the very least I am hoping to enter one writing contest. I have some free time this semester and I’m hoping to put that time to good use. I am not going to count blogging since I like to view that as a separate hobby all together.
3. Get back into shape. At my smallest, I weighed 132lbs and I was almost into a size 0 jean. Pregnancy was not kind to me and i gained an excess of 60lbs. 8 months after giving birth and I am more than ready to see the old me.
4. Finally (and perhaps my most important goal) is to keep the promises i make to myself. I find myself getting rolled over by other people too often. I break the agreements I make with myself and this year that is going to stop. When I recognize negative behavior I will address it once, if it does not change then I will force something to change.
I am determined to make 2018 the best year I possibly can.
This time of year always awakens inside of us a desire to change for the better. This year, however, its been noted that more and more people are choosing to go down the “you won’t see any change outta me” route.
This is a discouraging attitude to take given the symbolic nature of the New Year. A chance to start over; a chance to reset our lives, so to speak. To approach this change with a mindset that negates it, seems to spell doom for the remainder of the new year. 2017 was a heavy year for many, why would any of us want it to continue? In order to change the world around us, we really must begin with ourselves. Society says that one person cannot make a noticeable change, but really that is untrue. Begin with a smile. Obey the traffic laws and when someone cuts you off choose to let it go. Give a dollar to charity whenever you’re at the gas station and they ask you to. Expect nothing in return and radiate peace and love to those around you. Small gestures will change the people around you. It is possible to repair acquaintanceship’s and friendships bit by bit, if you want to.
We would do well to remember that the Universe is a tricky place, and we humans have not got it figured out yet. Threaten to remain the same, and boast of keeping negative traits, and She might just throw you a curve ball or two.