Something Other Than You

What Makes A Man

douchebag: Someone who has surpassed the levels of jerk and asshole, however not yet reached f***er or motherf***er. Also, An individual who has an over-inflated sense of self worth, compounded by a low level of intellegence, behaving ridiculously in front of colleagues with no sense of how moronic he appears.*

How lame must a guy be in order to get the title, Douchebag? Is one girl's douchebag another girl's dream? Is it all just personal assessment, or is there a standard?

Did I just date a douchebag for 3 months?


*Courtesy of Urban Dictionary 
photo link here

Hopeful

There will come a time, you'll see
With no more tears
And love will not break your heart
But dismiss your fears.

Get over your hill and see
What you find there
With grace in your heart and
Flowers in your hair.

- Mumford and Sons

Shake It Off

Am I Angry?

I deleted the phone number. I unplugged him from my life. I won't see him or his friends pop up on my facebook feed. I've created distance. That feels like the right thing to do. It's over. It's time to heal the wound, I think.

So when I get a text from an unknown number at 10 pm... when I see that it's him, asking if I'm angry I wonder what made him realize that something was different? I wonder, should I reply? Is it even appropriate to write, "No"? Am I angry at him? How can it all come down to a yes or no question? Everything I've felt, the reasons this isn't enough, the ways in which he's hurt me. Even now, it's a selfish gesture. This feels more like an attempt to reprieve himself of guilt than any care towards my condition.

Am I angry?

Undone And Recovering

I'm great. Life is great. For the most part, I'm great. Mostly I'm pretty good.

You know what? This sucks. It is so hard wanting to be with someone while you're alone. At this point, getting back together with my ... ex-boyfriend? (what an awful phrase term) is not the right thing for me. It just can't be, right? He started off as an incredibly doting paramour. He said the most fantastic and entertaining things. He always had his hands on me, comforting me. He checked on me, on my feelings. He wanted to make me happy. He made me smile when I felt shitty. But I can see now that by the end, he left me feeling so insecure. The break-up shook me hard. He backed out on me. He needed time to himself, time to recover from previous pain, time to get himself balanced again, time to sort out the emotions in his head. He told me he couldn't do it. He told me he was incapable of being what I deserved, but that one day (soon, hopefully) he could come back to me ready to give me everything. And I realized yesterday that saying he "couldn't do it" was probably an attempt to relieve himself of some responsibility for my broken heart. If he was incapable of being the boyfriend I deserved, than it wasn't a choice he made--circumstances were what hurt me, not him. At the time, it almost seemed noble of him. Now it seems weak.

The problem with recovery from a broken heart isn't really the crying and the misery--that's to be expected. It's the surprise emotional attacks. After 2 weeks of feeling great and independent and strong and beautiful and optimistic, I started crying yesterday when I got home from work. I got dressed and went for my run with a hat to shade my puffy, pink eyes. Usually running solves my moodiness: exercise is a known mood booster and running is especially great for clearing the mind. But as I slowed to a walk after three and a half miles, I could feel my throat clenching. It was as if my body was on pause for 40 minutes. As soon as I swung my apartment door shut behind me, I collapsed onto the floor short of breath, my chest heaving with sobs, my face streaked with sweat and tears.

There's a lot of hurting still and I imagine there will be for a while. I fell in love with him. I have to reconcile that somehow. I had to allow myself to continue to love him, but not be in love with him. This is what life is about, guys. Love is what it all revolves around.

Lines That Don't Work On A Girl

Let's hang soon.

Aren't I seeing you on Friday [in 2 days]?

Yeah.



... I think he forgot.

Boys Are Dunces

Case in point:

My once lovey-dovey wanna-be boyfriend from last summer (Mr. Colorado) happens to live in the same town as me (when we were intimate we lived hundreds of miles apart). Since my move to this town, I've seen him but once. He may have had hopes to see more of me over the past half year but it was always up to me to "get a hold" of him. You know I hate that phrase. When I did make the effort, one of us would end up backing out. It got irritating fast plus I knew that the last thing I needed was to be hanging out with the guy anyway. He was flaky, made it known on multiple occasions that I wasn't his world, and would most assuredly leave me hanging on to old feelings.

So fast-forward to about 3 weeks ago when he tried to forge the space between us with a quick message--"hey, how are you?" Since my break-up with this other guy I've begun to feel more appreciative of friendships and healing old wounds--so I bit and wrote back. Surprise! "Get a hold of me" was part of the response. Miffed, I called him on it but made plans to catch up a day or so later. We got some beer and he talked about life and asked how I enjoyed our now shared town. It was nice but also underwhelming.

We share mutual friends and I had made a plan to tag along on the group weekend camping trip. We were amiable again! Everything was normal and cool, e.g. occasional small talk around the campfire, until later that night after I had left the circle to retire to my tent with my dog (who's playing the role of a boyfriend right now). I was just getting comfy in my sleeping bag when low and behold I hear a voice outside my polyester door flap. "Hello? Are you awake?" I let him in with my guard up and suspicions high. Squatting inside my tent with my flashlight shining, he made conversation--first on life in general and then on us in particular. He apologized for hurting me. He apologized for being a jerk, if I indeed I thought of him as one. He was appreciative for being back in my life. All was well and good. I took it all in stride. Great. Thanks. It's all good now. I'm over it. I've moved on. I've let it all go. I've got other emotional dilemmas on my mind, to be quite frank (I didn't actually say that line). Then the conversation sort of ... stopped. He just sat there... and turned off the flashlight.

Fuck. He was going to try to put the moves on me. At one point he tried to find my face with his hand and I awkwardly laughed at him. Then I found a yawn and told him Badger and I were ready for bed. He didn't move. You know what I did? I called him a Chatty Kathy and told him to get out of my tent. We laughed about that for a few seconds but he didn't moved. I said it again. Then he tried to kiss me. By try, I mean he managed to find my lips and lay his right on top. Aw, shoot. After saying "ahh! What the hell!" in my head, I kissed him quick back and then gave him a hug and then kicked him out for real.

But seriously, what the hell?

Back story: turns out the guy had been in an off-again/on-again relationship the whole time I was out here (and we weren't talking). Their relationship culminated in a spastic expensive gift giving explosion. I imagine he was hoping to heal the dying love between them with money goods but it didn't work. They broke up 3 days later. Then he decided to take a 2 week foray to Turkey where he spent the majority of his time with an ex-girlfriend. He messaged me days after he returned. He kissed me days after that.

What the hell, man? What the hell?

Boys are dunces.

And Now

Life is beautiful. Everything just feels richer and brighter as I recover from this broken heart. The hurt makes the happy that much sweeter. Has anyone else felt this way?

The Library Crush

Oh man does it feel warm and cozy to have a crush on a stranger. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's crushes. This one might be an editorial photographer (or so I'm theorizing from my 20 minutes of google searching last night). I will mention that he's quite cute which is really one of two stipulations for a crush-worthy person. Number two is charm and really cuteness matter more because you can develop a crush without even meeting someone--it's all appearances. I think I judge people, by the way. Bah. I'll let you know how it goes.

P.S. I'm tired of boys with their meandering ways and hollow promises. Get me a man who will stick to what he says and doesn't say "call me". I do not want to call you. I want you to want me, more than anything else. Is that too much to ask?