Do you have my heart in there? (part 7)

Refuses sat at my counter in the kitchen, and I sat on a stool next to him. We both grabbed beers as soon as we walked in, honestly, because we both knew it wasn’t going to get any more awkward than this.

He said that after Tuesday night, when we talked, he went home and thought about us. He pulled down a shoebox from his closet and found these. He opened his suit jacket, and pulled out his wallet, and pulled out my three post it notes.

And I lost it.

He set them on the counter one by one and said that I made him a better man, and that these post its were the reason we are so good for each other. He said he didn’t know it at the time, but that he loved me, and he wanted to be with me. He wanted to make this work, that though he didn’t know how, he knew that we could make this work.

He said that he didn’t know if I ever wanted to talk to him again after Tuesday night, but he knew after I texted him Wednesday morning that we had to give it a shot.

We drank beers and broke onto the roof of my downtown apartment building. We rehashed out every part of our first relationship, and had all of the conversations we were too scared to have.

He loved me, and though I knew it all along, I really needed him to want my love in order to let my guard down.

Just thought you should know. (part 6)

Refuses had these stupid post its. These exact ones, in fact.

I found them on his desk in the first few weeks we were dating. They were shuffled below papers and schoolwork, and seemed like a safe enough place to leave a note. So I did. Amidst late night beers and movies, and casual sex on school nights, I wrote “I kinda like you. ” and I signed it with a heart and my name. Nothing of the note was ever mentioned.

Months later, Refuses graduated from college and as we both landed great new jobs, I wrote “I am so proud of you” and signed it with a heart and my name. Each time I went to write a new note, the previous note was gone.

Finally, the two nights before he moved to LA,  I wrote a post it that read: Just thought you should know “the best part was loving you” and signed it with a heart and my name.

It was true. I loved him, and this was my way of telling him before he left.

screaming on the inside (part 3)

He was emotional. I was calm. and defensive.

I didn’t want to let on that I had missed him, that I was having a hard time. Didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his text messages had an affect on me. I wanted him to know that he wasn’t here, and he never came back to tell me he missed me himself. Why did he think he had the right to remind me about our relationship, when he didn’t want to date me and never said otherwise?

He said he loved me. And he missed me. Said he loved what we had together, and lots of other cliche relationship barf.

I asked what he wanted from me. He said he wanted to know that I cared. I was stoic, and he asked what I wanted. I said that I wanted to date him.

I said we really only have two options, you can date me, or you can stop texting me.

And he said, okay, then I guess I won’t text you anymore.

And I said okay and hung up the phone, even though every inch of me was screaming on the inside.

the break up talk (part 2)

We never had a real one. Never had a what are we going to do? I’m actually going to miss you talk. Sure, we said things, but I knew he just wanted to get on with the rest of his life, and I just wanted to get out unscathed.

So between Facebook stalking Refuses and ignoring his texts, we would email once every month or so about stupid bands we both liked and anything to get a hit of each other during the workday. He was my high on the days that we talked, and my reason for being down on the days we didn’t. We kept it clean and short, and I showed no signs of remorse, no signs of giving in.

He caved first. Said that it was “obvious I had moved on and that he should too,” said that he wished he could talk to the me he remembered- the cute, sweet girlfriend me.

That last email infuriated me. He wanted me to act sweet and charming and say that I missed him? He didn’t want to date me, but wanted me to act like it? My blood was boiling.

I texted him to find out if he was okay. He said no, said that he hated breaking up and that he missed me. Said he was having a hard time. I asked if he wanted to talk, and told him I would call him later.

I postponed the conversation with a few glasses of wine- wine to kill the nerves that had been building for three months; wine to dull the anger.

the preface (part 1)

Refuses texted me the day before Halloween.

“Hey I just got to Vegas for my buddy’s birthday & thinking about the awesome time we had when you and I were here. Miss you & hope you’re well “

And I was furious, but determined to not be brought down the day before my Halloween party. We had decorated! There were balloons! I was a sexy bee!

So I ignored him, because I didn’t want to stroke his ego, while he deflated my holiday. I just didn’t think that was fair.

The next day he texted “Sorry” only to earn no response from me. And honestly I could not have been more pissed, that he MOVED AWAY, and he couldn’t find it in himself to keep the pity party to himself?

So I partied without the pity part.

heal me. I’m just short of begging.

heal my heart, please. Because it never seems like the crazy goes far. Always one step behind me, waiting for me to slow down, so it can finally catch up.

heal me sooner rather than later, please. I would like to close the door on you once and for all, and lock out the crazy until the next time.

heal me for now, please. It doesn’t even have to be forever, just for now. The next time will be good, this I know. But the next time is hardly imaginable, with no foreseeable future.

And I truly believe that this is what makes love so great.

Minus the crazy.

A big sigh of relief

I went to sleep last night at 7:30 pm, and woke up feeling like myself again.

I went to workout (and got my ass-handed to me by an awesome instructor) this morning.

Today I am going to hang out with a group of girls I hung out with before Refuses made an appearance, and I can’t wait to have fun with them again.

I am moving on today, demanding my old life, my old me back, and getting out of this funk.

From here on out I will be working out like I used to, eating like I just worked out, making plans like they are all mine, and living like my heart has never been bruised.

grace in small things: twenty two

5. I haven’t overdrawn my account, yet.
4. More is better writes a new post. Hilarious.
3. Zicam, Tylenol, L-lysine, and Emergen-C. Overdose much?
2. The excited moments in between all of the really, really sad ones.
1. Making it to the oil change place before it closed. Extra points because they didn’t try to sell me on every litlle thing that is wrong with my car.

Black hole

He loves Space more than me, and I have never been more sure of that than now.

I have a question.

It goes something like this.

I want to date someone that is a smidge more exciting than me. Someone who will take the plunge, the leap or the fall.

Someone who will jump when you least expect it.

I want to date someone that makes me a little more normal, a little less all over the place, and a lot more inspired.

But if I want to date someone more exciting than me, doesn’t everyone?

No one wants to date boring, uninteresting and standard, but doesn’t someone end up being that by default?

So if everyone is out there looking for someone a smidge more exciting than themselves, than what will the most interesting people do? They will have no one to be their fire, their excitement.

Or do the most interesting people, in fact, look for someone to tame them. They have all the excitement they need and in pursuit of balance, they choose mellow, less ferocious?

I had tame, mellow, sensible and rational. Not a speck of crazy in Him. I was bored, unfulfilled. So when I meet new people who are a little less than thrilling, I automatically wonder… Am I choosing the same thing all over again?