Category: 1574

post-break up

_20141025.Saturday Brunch.8

Everyone is concerned. When you have a breakup, there are a lot of questions. “How are you?” “Are you feeling okay?” “Tell me what happened.” It’s sweet and well-intentioned and you say “I’m fine!” You smile and say that things didn’t work out. Your mind grasps at the clichés that people say in movies during these situations. What are you supposed to say again?

No one is fine post-break up. No one can explain the mess that it is. A relationship does not die without a single emotion entertained. It’s an aching heart, ghosts of memories and many, many what ifs. What if we just kept pushing through? What if we never said such hurtful things to each other? What if I never knew the things I know now?

The days are busy and full but I will walk the dog and my mind whispers to me what if. I’m thrown back into that tortuous path of re-evaluating what went wrong, who was more wrong, and what wrong could have been righted.

But it was perfect.

It was two high schoolers who loved each other with as much love as they could. Who supported each other through college and graduate school. It was catching rides with strangers to see the other. It was mailing sweet love letters. It was listening during tough times. It was laughing with heads thrown back. It was sweet and awkward and confusing like a first love should be.

And, despite the fact that we are over, I know I was blessed to have spent eight years with such a good, kind-hearted man.

So I am not blissed out in a relationship but I’m working on being okay. Which is okay! No worries, ya’ll. Really and truly. Thank you for your love and support.

a sensitive bad boy

Yesterday marked seven years with my sweet, darling Matthew. We’ve both forgotten how we decided April 5, 2006 would define the start our relationship. Our first kiss? The first time we said “I love you”? We should remember these things, we chided one another. But who can pinpoint when two high schoolers determined they were in a relationship?

What I do know is that Mat and I were completely unaware of the other throughout high school. Then he stood in the center of our English class junior year and read his personal statement. Our assignment was to pen an essay for college applications; he spoke of Aaron, his little brother. It was self-deprecating and sarcastic, mildly outlandish yet funny, and brimming with a tender affection for his brother. Intriguing. I stared after him as he went back to his seat, vanishing behind a cluster of people. How was it I never knew who he was?

I quickly sought out my best friend for details on this mystery boy. And what did I hear?

“Oh. He smokes a lot of weed.”

I was thrilled. A sensitive bad boy. My friend didn’t know anything else so I sketched out the rest in my mind: rebellious, most likely a big partier and looking for someone to patiently chip away his armor so that he could reveal his inner romantic. That would be me!

He would have a horrid temper and be madly jealous of any male that talked to me. He would get into fights defending my honor. Meanwhile, I would fret over these things but dutifully stick by his side because only I could placate him and, of course, because we were madly in love.

And here we are, seven years and one day later. I will say that he was did not live up to my expectations for how our story would go. I would learn that he harbors an enormous amount of trivial knowledge, usually pertaining to geography and history, my most hated subjects. He also excelled in school and did not need me to inspire him to achieve more (except in the hour before calculus homework was due). Although I was disappointed to learn that I would not be the lead character in The O.C., I also could not have been happier.

life lately {mat is here!}

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1. i finally try amish food.// 2. details in architecture undo me.// it too soon to say i love this city?// 4. after waiting 45 minutes at jim’s steaks for a philly cheesesteak, the moment felt epic.

keen anticipation

I saw you at Amy’s wedding but it was a tease of a time except for those perfect few hours after the reception. We bypassed the bars and clubs and just walked. Talking. We searched for a quiet spot to hole up in for awhile but ended up back at the hotel lounge, settling into a booth and ordering a latte for me, a beer for you. I was tired to my bones from the wee amount of sleep I had been surviving on but I couldn’t tear my eyes from you. Yes, we call and text and webcam but to have you beside me.. I felt complete.

Now I am waiting with keen anticipation for your arrival. Your plane has been delayed for the third time; I am holding my breath in hopes that another hour is not tacked onto the flight. It’s really too much to bear. I try not to anticipate these reunions too much for this exact reason: the most subtle but sharp pang from disappointment. I miss you. So very much.

Is it sad to say that I don’t dream anymore of the future? I look at the here and now because to think of us being together is a cruel thing to do to myself. Such thoughts are too sweet and makes the ache of being so far away from you that much more unbearable.

I plan on taking a nap so it will seem like seconds until you will be here. Have a safe flight, love.

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jade luck

I found it suddenly amidst the mess: a rabbit the size of my thumbnail. I rolled it in my hands; the cold jade nagged at my memories. With each roll, excitement burbled slowly within me because maybe..could it be?…that this was the child we had lost?

It was after our firstborn-the “Will you marry me?” Taco Bell hot sauce packet- sometime sophomore year of college. We had wandered a Mexican flea market in San Antonio and there adopted this bite-sized jade rabbit and a sibling (a horse, I think). I was ecstatic by how Lilliputian they were and carried them with us everywhere, which was their downfall.

Remember that day? We had spread out newspapers on my living room floor to paint something or another, placing our two children side by side to watch. And then they were gone, lost in some moment. We speculated they had disappeared in a hurried clean up. It seemed like a terrible omen at the time- to have lost our beloveds in mere days!- but time passed and the loss slipped from our minds.

I immediately sent you a picture when I found the jade rabbit but you were unsure of whether this was really our long lost child of yore. Wasn’t our rabbit made of onyx, you asked. I paused. It’s been quite some time. But here’s what I told you: We lost a child long ago, perhaps an onyx one, perhaps not a rabbit at all, but this one appeared. And it appeared now, reminding me of what had been lost, like a sign to say: it will all be okay. Hah. This all sounds ridiculous-the obvious: why did we love to call inanimate objects our offspring?- but I admit the wee thing has been a comfort. The last few days have been heart-wrenching and I am afraid. Change is here.

Yet I savor these moments: chaotic and full with tender love. I have staved off hysterics to be truly present for it all- late-night home renovating, planning for Amy’s wedding, our sixth anniversary- but what I truly love has been the minutiae in the day: deep belly laughs with the girls that rise above the restaurant din; hours sprawled on the study room sofa with my mom, watching episode after episode of a Korean drama; you procrastinating and playing guitar while I read, humming absentmindedly along; and the quiet, unhurried moments cruising in my car. This is what I will miss the most.

In spaces of silence and loneliness, of doubt and uncertainty, I will grasp that piece of jade luck and this feeling of warmth.

all too real

I spent a few hours the other day cleaning Mat’s apartment. Not because I’m a sweet and dedicated girlfriend, I’m afraid, but because my things had exploded throughout the entire place. Mat has a pretty high tolerance for my mess but he finally scolded me and so cleaning had to be done.

While doing the dreaded dishes, I realized I should begin some packing for moving. So I found some boxes and luggage, which attests to how much I have here, and began sorting away clothes and makeup. As I reached for my photography linens underneath the coffee table, I looked up and sadness flooded me.

A heap of my things lay near the door. Otherwise, the apartment was tidy and infinitely more masculine without high heels strewn on the floor or bouquets made from leftover wedding flowers.  The cleanliness made leaving home, leaving Mat feel all too real.

It’s six plus years now with four spent in different cities. These past two spent together have been blissful. And now there’s at least a year we’ll have to spend apart. A year isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things but I’ve been spoiled by seeing him so often now. There isn’t a particular course of action we plan to take to make the time pass more painlessly except to use all forms of communication and prowl the internet for cheap airplane tickets.

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