Argh.

I just realized that because I've been logged into multiple places at the same time, blog posts haven't been adding themselves like they should for almost a week now. I'm fixing the problem, but don't worry- I haven't forgotten about this after all. Stay tuned...

Day 12

I've finally come to my senses. I'm not really sure if this is because I've been exercising, going out more, or pouring my heart into anything I want to work on... but really, does that matter? Fact is, there's something rather liberating that I'm feeling, almost as if having no contact with him moves this whole process along faster. Yes I am still sad, but more for him; after talking with his best friend today on the phone for almost an hour, me knowing that my ex knows what he's lost and may eventually want back is the hardest thing to deal with. (I did find out that it wasn't a "he's just not that into you" moment which doesn't make it any easier.) And yet, this time alone has given me moments of clarity that were otherwise clouded by love.

We often don't seem to love ourselves as much as we love the other person, and as a result, are blind to each other's faults that are a strain on the relationship (and ultimately unspoken deal breakers.) It's hard for me to admit that I'm doing something for myself, or that I can't fix something that isn't me. We are so genetically predispositioned to give our love out, not take it away. But in doing so, we also negate our own pride, feelings, and overall rationality for extended periods of time. I'm not prescribing that everyone should be self-centered here; on the contrary, the key to finding love is found within ourselves, and to know thyself is to love thyself and be true to your beliefs. With this may come heartbreak, but eventually, someone else may love you for all the right reasons because they are true to themselves as well. The (not so) catch: you'll never find that person if you don't find yourself first and remember who you are. It may be a whole new perspective on break-ups and dealing, but the fact is you will break-up, you will have to deal, and you might as well come out the other end stronger because of it.

Day 11

I sometimes wonder- no matter how much I try and act like one of the guys, will I still carry the feelings of one of the girls as a consequence? Tonight I was looking over everything I've written thus far, and after noticing how long each and every post was I realized that regardless of how hard I strive not to, I still tend to over think things. Well not tonight. (You either.)

Day 9 and 10

Whether or not any girl cares to acknowledge it, there is an understood rule among men. Better known as the "guy code", this rule allows boys to gossip among each other about potential or current girls but never say a word to any person who wasn't privy to the initial (and only) conversation. See, a lot of guys will have a dilemma, seek advice, and then act upon their decision, never really getting a second opinion like girls tend to. I only know this because I've seen it happen so many times. Having been able to witness stories that fall under the guy code is a blessing and a curse. What his friends say in the minutes after the question has been asked can and will make or break what he eventually decides about you. If you're lucky and said friends are secretly cheering for your team, you may get a shot into overtime. However, if they hardly know you or don't particularly approve, they will shoot you down if only due to the ultimate unwritten backwards second meaning of "bros before hos"; not the one that says "we won't fight over who saw her first", but the far more devastating "screw her you have us anyway and you should value our decision."

It's not easy as a female seeing this all go down with some of my best guy friends, because in the back of my mind, I know that whatever guy I'm seeing/dating/driving crazy is more than likely doing the very same thing with his "bros". It's even worse when your friend's girlfriends come running to you, asking why and what they can do to fix everything. How do you tell a heartbroken girl you only know through your friend that she can't do anything, that your friend made his decision and she'll just have to get over it? You can't.

As a girl with my guy's interests and his ex-girl's feelings at heart,I tend to try to find a way to break the news, but always end up making up stories like "oh honey, you're better than him anyway", or "trust me, I've known him for years and you guys are just great, but he's crazy and I've told him this... if he ever realizes it it'll be too late, and I know you can do better." And blah blah blah and so on and so forth. While these things may or may not be my true feelings about my friend, it is generally understood that it is okay to give this pitiful girl an ego boost (even if it is a last ditch effort to just get her off your back)... unless, of course, she was a total bitch which will earn her my deadpan version of the absolute, over adjectified truth (a personal favorite, but never use a missile where you only need a BB or the results will be disastrous.)

I'm not saying I'm one to judge here: I'll be the first to admit I've spent all too much time in previous relationships contacting a guy's friends when shit hits the fan. Not only does this make things even more awkward for your guy (who will hear about whatever you ask/disclose, potentially distancing himself even further from you because of it) but it also makes things really awkward for his friends. Unless they were your friends before the relationship developed (and even sometimes then) his roommates, sports bar buddies, and siblings are not your confidants and never should be treated as such. They either approve or disapprove, but regardless of what they actually think about you, they will act hospitable towards you out of respect for their guy. They have not suddenly become your best friends, and you should not call them in the middle of the night crying. And don't think those girls he's friends with are all of the sudden going to take your side because you are the same gender and "they've been there"; even if they act like they are there for you, they will always be there for their initial friend through and through. (As one of the friend's though, I will say that abuse or cheating are my exceptions to the rule, in which I feel the need to say something and also re-evaluate my friendship with the guy in the first place.)

I made the mistake of texting my ex's best friend at the beginning of this whole ordeal- he has since texted saying he'd call to talk this weekend (which was a nice gesture at the time), but I haven't heard from him otherwise. Something in my gut is telling me he's dreading it, which is completely understandable; I hate having those conversations when I'm on his side of the phone too. So how do you tell someone "no worries man- it's all good. take care!" and know that they won't feel bad for not being able to help you after you've contacted them? That's the one I've yet to figure out...

Day 7 and 8

That was a test. You see, the world does not just come to a screeching halt because you feel you've lost in love. If nothing, it spins ever faster, egging you on to keep up with it. Case in point, I didn't make it to the blog boards yesterday. Between applying for jobs, working an ongoing weekly contract job that involved multiple processes and a few meetings, and phone calls with various family members, the day was fuller than it seemed. (Okay, maybe I did take a nap somewhere in between, but I deserved it!) Nevertheless, by the time that I had a chance to actually sit down and think and write I was already asleep, preparing for today's new challenges.

I recently found out that my Grandmother has stage IV pancreatic cancer. Why do I divulge this? Because it has had a huge impact on the amount of strength I currently need to possess. Not only must I be strong and keep my sixty day promise to myself, but I must do so at a time when I feel like the person that used to anchor me is no longer there. I've been drifting aimlessly for several days since I got the news, trying to be strong for my family whilst wishing I had that person more than ever right now, even just as a friend, and it hasn't been exactly painless to say the least. I've picked up the phone more than once, scrolling down to the "Do Not Call" choice before shutting it. Of course, I stop myself at the last minute; no matter how much I think that phone call might help, it's not what is best in this situation.

Sometime tonight however I came to the realization that I can either "let myself float out to sea" or I can become my own anchor. Although the latter is also the harder of the two, it is also the better choice for any little lost boats out there. Times may be tough no matter what you are facing, but you can't (and shouldn't) rely on others to keep you sane. It should come from within. (And since I'm in a cheeseball state of mind, to borrow from The Police: I'll send an SOS to me.)

So yet another revelation for the week, and a laundry list of personal demons that need conquering to boot. Great. I've really got my work cut out for me now...

Day 6

The hardest part about this sixty days is the idea of not having that best friend to talk to. My ex was my go-to guy: if something was wrong, if I was confused or feeling forlorn, he was there for me, giving comfort or suggestions whenever I needed. I'm not claiming that my friends and family cannot fill this role, I'm just saying that it's nice to have that one reliable person as well. You don't have to give back story to them because they already know it, and they know you and your secrets well enough that they can offer advice but never tell another soul.

Puxatony Phil saw his shadow yesterday, and though it may be sunny and 75 in LA, inside my head I am still feeling that impending six more weeks of winter. Yeah it's cold, but not because of the temperature or even the current healing process; it's because of all the surrounding things that I'm left with inside, not wanting to burden anyone with them, not wanting to bruise my ego by showing the rest of the world that I have feelings. Losing that shoulder to cry on has by far been the most devastating blow. Perhaps it wasn't the right shoulder for me, but it still felt better to have one when your world seems to be collapsing around you than not at all.

Through this, I'm starting to feel faced with one of the biggest challenges I have ever combated: if things go further downhill, do I reach out and break my contract with myself (and perhaps lose what's left of his respect in the process), or do I find other ways to deal? The romantics of it all aren't even a factor at this point- I actually woke up exuberant this morning after having a dream where I walked away from his offer, feeling like I had made a major breakthrough. So it's not really about that... it's just needing that particular friend at this particular point in time. I am stumped...

Day 5

It's been about a week since everything really went down, and the last two days have been hard. Even my sister said to me today on the phone between her songs, "I don't know how you're dealing with it." I wasn't really, and I told her that too. I told her I've been thinking, writing, drinking, barely eating or sleeping, and that the only thing keeping me strong was knowing that I was doing what was best for me. Or at least what I thought was best, even if I hadn't started to believe it yet.

Have you ever felt like the emperor in the Emperor's New Clothes? Like maybe you're walking around thinking you have on the most beautiful outfit ever, simply because you spent so much time and effort on it, and no one can seem to convince you that you're really walking around naked (or worse, frumpy) and embarrassing yourself? I think that's what happens for too many women: so often we become enamored with what is comfortable and feels right that we refuse to actually take a look in the mirror. Everything is so perfect in our heads that we fail to see or hear anyone around us. It is only after realizing we're starting to feel cold that our ears open up; the clouds are lifted, and damn if our friends weren't right- we are naked! Those clothes we wore never actually existed... those dreams we thought we had were simply a figment of our imagination... and at that moment, we realize that we need a bathrobe stat.

Tonight I watched the movie "Working Girl" on AMC. Now I'm not generally a fan of what you would call a "chick flick", but I remember enjoying it in a college class and figured I'd give it another go. Little did I know that this would be the beginning of the tunnel, my first glimpse of that beacon of light shining bright at the other end. (Forgive me for the exaggeratedly positive description, but when you make a revelation like this someday you will understand that "waaah!!!" noise in your head like I'm having and say "ohhh... this is what she meant!".) In the film, which I highly suggest you watch since I'm flying the spoiler alert flag at full mast, not only does Melanie Griffith's character stay true to herself and fight to the end for what she believes in, but she gets the guy as well. However, this is not the guy she set out with in the beginning. She wasn't where she wanted to be in love or in life, even though her friends were telling her that status quo was okay and to hang onto what worked. And we know this from the get-go: Alec Baldwin is so wrong for her! He has bad chest hair and bad taste in birthday presents and screws girls from Jersey behind her back! But much like her moxsy to do a job that no one thinks she can do, she begins getting the attention she deserves from whom other than Harrison Ford. (Well okay, so she does take a Valium, steals clothes from her boss, goes to a party uninvited, gets drunk at said networking party, and ends up passing out at Harrison's apartment because she can't tell him where she lives because she is still with the ex. Bear with me here- it's Hollywood!) Harrison can see what she's really about, and you know that there's a real connection there. But in order for her to even think about pursuing this, she has to realize that she should never forgive Alec for what he's done; what's to say he won't do it again? Long story short, Harrison ends up loving the girl because she is real, and Melanie gets the guy and the job of her dreams.

What's to say your guy won't do it again? And what does it take to stay strong? We've all heard the stories: the "I'm sorry's", the "I've changed", all the lip service they'll give you if they decide to come crawling back after a break-up. So why don't we forget the "I love you's" and "you're the only one I want's" so easily? And if the former were lies, wouldn't reasonable deduction dictate that the latter are as well? What I'm saying here is simply this: tomorrow is a new day, and there is no reason to dwell on the past. Rather, charge forward to what you want more than anything in life, and never forget that. And even if it means losing your Alec Baldwin, trust me, your Harrison Ford will come soon enough.

Day 4

I'll be the first to admit that I have trouble following my own advice sometimes. Despite the fact that I had been invited to multiple Super Bowl parties this weekend and had already chosen one (and made dips to bring to it the night before), I woke up this morning just not feeling like going anywhere at all. Had it not been for my roommate I very well may have stayed in my bathrobe and watched the game with a frozen pizza and half a bottle of wine. You see, football was a thing that the ex and I had been following together all season long- every Sunday came with my requisite weekly run to Wing Stop followed by half a dozen games on DVR (so as to watch every division and really get a grasp on who was headed to the ultimate of championships.) This Sunday however was bittersweet. I did end up going to my friend's and having a decent time, but to wait so long for something so big to happen and not share it with the person that waited with you feels like a bit of a letdown. (Kind of like a relationship that doesn't pan out- yeah, you see where I'm going here.) You can yell and cheer all you want, but somewhere, in between the mediocre "economic crisis" commercial reruns and less entertaining than normal halftime show, you can't help but wonder what your recent better half is doing and if they are thinking the same thing.

For some reason, one commercial tonight stuck out at me- not so much for its brilliance, but rather, for its random association to something I had heard so many times. Seeing the Tin Man animated in an ad (I don't even remember what for- smart work there, ad guys) took me back to my hundreds if not thousands of Wizard of Oz viewings throughout my childhood. And though the message I held close throughout childhood was "there's no place like home", the newer realization tonight was when the Tin Man finally meets the Wizard who says upon hearing his request, "A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others." Now I know that I have a big heart, bigger than many people I have me, but often I tend to love so much it can hurt. So how is it that you get others to love you? And if others tell you you have one of the biggest hearts they know, does that mean that they realize this because they love you back?

Today has been a very difficult day overall. Not because I was in a strange place surrounded by unknown people, not even because I was wrestling with a two year old while trying to watch the big game. Simply because I'm not sure if I've made the right decision here. Did I read his emails correctly? Did I overreact by taking a multi-month vow of silence? (Really either of those questions could be a yes or no.) I want to say I made the right decision; I know in my heart I more than likely did. So why then do I still carry the mixed feelings that I did twelve hours ago, and how can I make them go away?

When I started this experiment, I never said it was going to be easy. I never stated that it would all be okay, my heart would heal, and I would move on within a week. But I certainly didn't know it would be so hard either. I've actually never had quite so much trouble bridging the gap between an old relationship and a new one in the past, be it with myself or another person waiting in the wings. And maybe this is to say that one should never experiment in matters of the heart. (Then again, maybe if we didn't experiment, we would never find exactly what we're looking for.)

When I was in elementary school, I loved doing Science Projects. The build-up to choosing an idea, the hours of gathering materials, the week spent formulating a hypothesis, the months spent observing and recording the progression of variables A-E in comparison to the constant. All this work and time would lead up to that one night before the project was due: I'd stay up hours past curfew, double-matting and gluing my weeks' worth of blood sweat and tears onto a tri-fold piece of cardboard, working so hard to be the best. And when that Saturday morning came and the school would display the best projects in the fair, I'd stand proudly next to my table explaining what I'd done and everything I'd learned and what I would do better if I had the chance to do it all over again. And though often I felt as if every judge loved my project and me, when the time came in fourth grade to hand out the ribbons to the winners, I stood there smiling and ready and... lost. I didn't even get third place. Now I had always won in the years prior, so even as a ten year old I was sad, shocked, and angry, thinking that I deserved to win. I was the best they had: I spent months testing different fabrics for durability, I sewed them together and for hours rode up and down my block on my bicycle wheels covered with silk, linen, and lace. I even documented the evidence with photos and journals of how the fibers wore differently due to materials, varying terrains, and how they appeared under a microscope, and these judges were throwing it away on two volcanoes and some bean sprouts in a Ziplock? This just didn't make sense to me. Why wouldn't they chose me? I played it over and over again in my head for weeks after, and no matter what I wanted to do differently, I couldn't. The decision had been made, and regardless of what I thought, I was still standing there at the end of the day with that certificate of participation in my hand.

Much like that science project, dating for me is becoming an experiment in itself. I can do my best and plead my case and explain what I'd do different given the option again, but when it comes down to it I have little additional say in the final decision. And even though I've won in years past for less than stellar relationships, I feel like this last go round I was slighted that chintzy star trophy and blue ribbon. The judge had reached a verdict, and I needed to respect and deal with their decision. I suppose there is always a chance that you'll get that same judge next year, they may pull you aside and tell you that your project really was one of the best but volcano's Dad had just helped build the new gymnasium and it was their way of saying thank you. And provided that you can find a way to cast your previous issues aside and still explain that new project with as much hope, intensity, and vigor you did the first go round, you might very well have a chance of winning this time. But somewhere inside, even if you are set to win first place, you will always have some doubt in that judge until the blue ribbon is physically in your hands. Your only hope is to believe in your hypothesis and decisions no matter what, and always prepare yourself for the next big project instead of dwelling on the last; whatever else comes next does so because it is supposed to, and unlike the fabrics that are washed and dried, you simply have no control over what happens to the ones spinning around and around on varying terrains. Use genuine, natural materials and you will come out with a few scrapes and bruises; use synthetics, and you're dooming yourself from the get-go.

Day 3

Today was the first time I've cried in several days. While mowing throw half an onion this evening in preparation for tomorrow's Super Bowl guacamole, tears began streaming down my face, narrowly missing the cutting board. Do anyone else ever feel like crying sometimes might actually not be controllable? Like the onion, I can think of more than a few other times I've wept when I'd have rather not. Try as I might they decide to come out, leading to the requisite "what's wrong" 's of whoever is within a ten foot radius. And so many of those times do those tears not feel controllable at all.

I've often wondered why guys have such better control over the whole crying thing. I've seen many a boyfriend look like he's tearing up, but (like those relationships) those tears rarely come to fruition. This of course is the simple explanation for why so many younger men seem to think that it's the end of the world when a girl cries too, especially if they've never had sisters. Either they don't yet understand why women cry so much more easily or they just do it after we leave and we are the only ones who don't know this secret. I'm not really sure on this one. All I can say is that regardless, it is still an "oh shit" moment for just about every guy I've ever known. Because what happens after this is so hard for them to mentally try and make better, all they can do is sit there and silently freak out, or get up and walk away. It is the end of the world for them- they only cry over something that is so terribly intense and grave it is tearing them apart, so if you're crying it is taken to mean that you are very possibly going through the same thing and they don't know what the hell to do next. (Consequently, if you rock tears weekly, he is likely to end up thinking you are only "crying wolf" and there is nothing wrong except the fact that he feels very annoyed.)

But why does this seem to happen more often to us than to them? At some point between our "pubesic rebellion" and college, a woman all too soon finds that she suddenly has much intenser emotions, and even the toughest of us cry more than we ever can remember. When I was younger, I would cry maybe once a year (excluding the baby years of course) and my brother would too. It was only after this sexual evolution that either of us felt the urge to change our watery ways; maybe women are just more accepting of feelings, or perhaps we are simply hard wired like that, especially around that time each month that goes without saying (and no it isn't a good excuse but damn if you can't chart relationship problems based solely on that.) It could even be that like infants, we are crying out again for what we want or need, especially when we can't seem to get it. Whatever the reason, I somehow knew around age thirteen that I would never feel anything the same way again.

Not to say that I'm the moody type at all. I actually feel as if I was blessed by this emotionally uncontrollable genetic pool: even though my mother is often in one extreme blubbering mess of a state or the somewhat happier other, my father has always been very good at hiding his "feelings" (yes, he does put air quotes around it and say it like a dirty word.) Luckily, I've inherited this trait from him, and though it does come with his inability to open up, for the most part I am in that happy stable emotional state on a day to day basis. It is only too bad then that when I am very upset or sad I turn into my mom, crying uncontrollably like I'm the cameraman on Iron Chef: Battle Onions. Not only does this make me feel like I'm the weaker party here, but it also clouds my vision, causing me to think only of how to calm and protect myself instead of listening to what is being said that may very well negate the whole reason that I am crying in the first place.

This isn't to say that crying is not normal, or even necessary. It is simply to say that sometimes, much like love, tears can blur your judgement, and at some point in life we all need to step away from that cutting board for a while before we're squinting so hard that we hack a finger off. (Besides, even though the Arizona Cardinals will be playing tomorrow, I don't think anyone at the party will want guacamole with quite that much team spirit.)

Day 2

The only thing that potentially gets hit harder than your heart after a breakup may very well be your wallet. I'm down to the last few days of this month, and yeah, ok, maybe I really only have enough for rent left in my bank account but damnit, I need retail therapy right now! Even after thrifting (J. Brand Jeans for $8!) and birthday present exchanging this week (cute earrings returned for smoking hot stilettos!), I still didn't feel satisfied. I needed to finish filling whatever void was only half full, even if it put me in the red and I had to eat popcorn and Cheerios for two weeks straight.

A quick backtrack after lunch today landed me at one of my favorite boutiques in Sunset Plaza, and wouldn't you know it, they were having a sale. (Ok, I really went there to see my friend who runs the place. They have a way of generally making me feel better, and in all honesty, I was already looking pretty good since I had a lunch meeting on that side of town earlier; why waste my work on one encounter?) Let this be a lesson to call in advance- a six-mile detour could've been avoided had I known that they wouldn't be there. I did however find a different friend in the form of a gorgeous ruffly black silk sleeveless blouse. On sale for $25 bucks. My new outfit and therapy was beginning to feel complete.

I suppose you could call that blouse my mourning shirt being the fabric and color it is, and I guess I might agree since the loss of a love can feel equally as painful as the death of a friend. However, even though I may seem in mourning and might just decide to wear it for one week straight, it wont be because I'm sorrowful; no, it'll be because I feel smoking hot in it. For me, the quickest way to get over feeling sad is by feeling better about yourself. Yes, I know thinking about all of your good qualities can be hard when you've been thinking about what you've done wrong. But if you can't start from the inside, it's often easier starting outside instead. You can call it superficial if you'd like, but really all it is is reverse psychology: you look better, and by default you feel better. I've yet to meet a single person who has trouble agreeing with that under such circumstances, I don't care how "real" they claim to be. You look better, you feel better. End of story.

"But I'm too fat to look better." Eat less, go to the gym. I know you need your ice cream right now, so put it in a small bowl- don't dig from the carton until you scrape cardboard and wonder where it all went. If you hate working out, you're not alone. I personally hate the gym. But you know what else is a good workout? Dancing. If you don't like to dance it's because you've never really tried it or have never had more than two shots of tequila. I'm not condoning drowning your sorrows in alcohol here ladies, I'm just saying your friends said they'd drop everything and hang out with you right now so you have a free pass: drag them to a club, let them buy you a cocktail if it helps, and tear up that dance floor. You might even catch the eye of that cute guy in the corner- I know you're not looking for romance quite yet, but even lunch or coffee might help you remember that you've still got it.

"But I don't feel like that kind of maintenance." GET OVER IT. Make-up takes less than 10 minutes. If you can apply chapstick you can apply lipstick, and if you can put in contacts you can certainly put on mascara. If you still don't know how, the nice ladies at the Sephora counter will do it for you and show you step by step. There is no excuse. When I met my current roommate, she was the biggest anti-makeup person I knew; upon asking her why, she simply said, "I don't want people thinking I'm something I'm not." It took me months if not over a year to convince her that makeup was not about lying to the people around you, but instead enhancing yourself for yourself. It goes straight back to my first point: you look better, you feel better. And by no means does this mean you have to cake foundation and eyeshadow on like a burlesque dancer. You just have to figure out what suits you and what enhances your features and stick with it. People will notice something is different, but they never have to know what.

"All the articles say I should date but I don't feel like dating." Of course you don't! Why on earth would you let anyone make you date right now? However, this does not mean that you're allowed to hole up in your living room for six months eating Doritos and watching Gossip Girl reruns. You need to get out, and if not on dates, somewhere with someone. (Grocery and gas runs do not count!) Try dinner with friends, movie night at the girls', beers and football with the guys, or even those party invites that you've been ignoring since you gained a boyfriend and lost your social life two years ago. Never had a social life to begin with? Make one up. Even if you only have one friend, I'm sure they will be there for you during this time and will be ready to do whatever you want to do.

"But I don't like hanging out with the girls/I don't have any girl friends." I don't either/I have very few (three local ones to be exact.) If you're one of those girls that's friends with 90% guys like I am, look at this as a time to reconnect with them if you've lost touch. Sometimes just having another guy tell you your ex is a bastard and you can do better is more fulfilling than one of the girls telling you that anyway. And besides, nothing can quite replace a strong muscular shoulder to cry on.

Maybe my glass is just always more than half full, but in closing for the night you really only have two options here: you can either look at your life post-breakup from a sad-woe-is-me perspective, or you can look at it as a chance to better yourself. And really, doesn't the second one sound more appealing anyway? Now to figure out where to wear my new outfit to...

Day 1

Despite everything that I've read over the last few days, not a single one of the "How To Find Closure and Move On" articles that are out there suggested the most important thing I've learned so far when you feel as if you've been dumped: TELL EVERYONE you know and get it over with. Figure out how to condense your "why it happened" story into an elevator pitch (that leaves out the gory details); then make sure all friends, mutual friends, family, and close colleagues know, and make sure you do all of this within 72 hours if possible. If you don't, you will find yourself in the days and weeks to come simply rehashing it over and over out loud and thinking about it even more than you ever should.

I realized this today. I ran into a friend around lunchtime, and another friend who I thought would surely tell everyone within our circle had not- thus, I was left to retell the same story I've been replaying for a week like a broken record. Although it doesn't get any harder to tell and tell again, it doesn't get any easier either. However, I can give a very certain play by play in less than 5 minutes, thus not boring the listener's ears to death but still filling them in with what has happened up to the present time. They are sad for me, they say they will drop anything to spend time with me, they say I can do better. These things are nice and the latter I know... but right now I just need to be around people who are tough and applaud my toughness, not anyone else who wants my feelings all over the place because they think that helps to heal. As I've come to find out in my short dating life, healing is a not an intensely emotional process for me, it is simply psychological- I get in better shape, I find a better job, and I improve my life overall. I do not wallow and sob- I have my moments yes, but they are fleeting because as far as I know what's the point? Ex-boyfriends are like spilled milk- if the carton (or boy) slips out of your grasp and happens to go everywhere and it isn't salvageable, you can always go get another at the grocery store... or corner gas stop, really whatever is most convenient and suits your preference here.

It's officially day one of my "no contact" policy, and though I find myself feeling at ease with the whole situation and maybe thinking it's wholly unnecessary, I am sticking to the entire sixty days if only for the sake of this sociological experiment. I started to think today "maybe I can talk to him in a week or two" but somewhere in my gut I realize that if I was to do such so soon, all the feelings might come flooding back and I've come too far in the last few days to be back at square one. Besides, when he packed up the rest of my stuff and gave it all back, he put a Christmas present from two years back that was for him in one of the bags. Now I'm not sure if it's a sign, but in my mind any boy who gives you back red lacy underwear you wore for him on Christmas certainly doesn't see you coming back anytime soon to fill them again. And guys, for the record, if you don't want that sort of gift to keep as a souvenir, give or throw it away! Don't return them to their previous owner who just happens to be your soon to be ex! Besides, giving back gifts is just rude in general, right?

Sixty Days

This is the recommended amount of time that most psychiatrists propose ample enough to get over someone. Regardless of the relationship's status or nuclear fall-out, in sixty days your heart is supposed to mend and you are on your way to a brighter and better future. I call their bullshit. I know, it's not a long time in the grand scheme of things. But sixty days without seeing, calling, or touching the person that you spent (or wasted) the last three years of your life with can feel like a long time when you're only on day one, and that doesn't even start until tomorrow.

I am not bitter, I am simply heartbroken. Crossroads happen, shit happens- it's just life, you deal with it and move on. Was I happy enough and willing to work through problems we had? Yes. Can I do better than him? Surely and without a doubt. But none of that matters when you think someone has pussied their way out of breaking up after realizing that they don't feel the same about you as you do for them. There is anger, sadness, and a whole slew of other emotions I don't believe I have words for. But if I can man up enough to tell someone exactly what I think, surely they can do the same for me, right? Bullshit.

Being a child of the technological age, I have done what any sane women would do these days: scoured the internet, searching for reasons as to why it happened, what could've been done better, and how to get over it all. If he thinks he'll come back into my life after breaking my heart for the third time, he's seriously mistaken. And I am dead set and hell bent on proving that. So I've filtered emails into a spam folder, blocked any messenger addresses I can think of, let his friends know we will not be in contact and thanks for playing, and removed my relationship status entirely from all social networking sites. I've put away presents, trinkets, and anything else that he gave me, and am seriously contemplating pawning my beloved Tiffany's and diamond stud earrings for cold hard cash, which will promptly be deposited at Neimans for overpriced stillettos that I can fuck someone else in and ultimately feel hotter and better... but I'm not bitter enough to do that just yet.

I've decided though that I'm not deleting pictures online- I did this last time and it didn't help. You can't avoid the past; you simply have to learn from it and grow. I think forgetting it all is what got me into round 2 with this same guy anyway, so the only way out now is to remember the good times but not make the same mistakes again. Have I forgotten anything else in this ritual cleanse? Let me know...