Monday November 12, 2007

But it wasn’t.

It should have been a movie so I could laugh, so we could all laugh, and it wouldn’t be real. I would wake up tomorrow, and it would be all better.

But it wasn’t.

I cried. I hurt, I was numb. I couldn’t believe, I feared I knew the worst was yet to come. I hurt physically in my chest, I had a pressure looking for a hole to rupture out, I had a hallow void of vacuum that threatened to implode.

I didn’t know what to do.

I couldn’t laugh at the irony, I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t blame. I wouldn’t let myself blame. I knew I couldn’t let myself hate her, I couldn’t let me hate myself, I couldn’t let me hate God, if ever wanted this to end well.

I didn’t know what to do.

I didn’t sleep. I thought about it over and over again – I said the words “I forgive you,” even though I didn’t yet blame her, and it didn’t help. I hoped I would wake up and it would be better, she would say it was all a dream, but I knew it wasn’t.

I didn’t know what to do.

I got out of my bed, I changed my xanga picture, I changed my myspace, and I wrote an email to a friend. 16 of the thousand thoughts that had kept me awake now had names, and it took me an hour and a half to do it. Then I finally slept.

I didn’t know what to do, but I knew some not to do.

I didn’t want this ending badly, I didn’t want this to be another Heather and Gabe or another Josh and Stefani. I didn’t want to be emotionally scarred, I didn’t want to have Lindsey issues, I didn’t want to have women issues, I didn’t want to have trust issues. I couldn’t get bitter, I couldn’t get depressed, I couldn’t listen to emo music.

I woke up.

Good things happen when you wake up, you open Stockings on Christmas morning, you get brand new days to fill with adventures and learning and love.

Just not me. Just not that morning.

I did things, normal things, but I was just hollow. I tripped over the paper bag from our date on Friday and it hurt. A landmine of a momento – an explosion in my heart. The day was full of them. And there I came to my next dilema.

How was I going to tell people?

I think I told Josh first. Well, he was the first to ask about it. He wanted me to go on a double date with him to watch a movie. I told him that  Lindsey didn’t like that movie when we tried watching it. And she broke up with me.

Some how I said those words in my head and it happened. I got better. It became past tense, it became a thing that has happened that I can’t change. I don’t know. I didn’t blame her at all, for the hurt that happened, but now that she was the one that did it, the words I said earlier became true.

I forgave her.

And I was all better. Okay, not really, but the sword that has cut my heart was withdrawn, and I can get better. Like reseting a dislocated joint. I knew things would get better from now on out. And seeing her was like starting to use it again.

Things didn’t get better right way, I still dreaded the nights. And coming off of work. And any down time I had at all.

I was fine if I kept moving, I was fine as long as I kept the big picture in my mind. Saturday morning I was putting away my laundry. There was the sweater that I lent her. The first sweater. She got it pretty much right when we started dating, and I got it back the night we stopped dating. The first and last, the alpha and omega, the beginning and the end. I had hid it in my hamper that Tuesday, and now on Saturday I had to put it away. It was inside out and had her hair on the inside.

I wanted to throw it way from me, to wash it again so I didn’t have to deal with the pain.

But I pressed on anyway. I said, “is it going to be washed clean or am I going to have to still pick out the hairs?” So I sat there and picked off the hairs. One by one.

The next person I told was Gerri. It was Laine, actually. I told her that Lindsey wasn’t coming to Thanksgiving, that she broke up with me. My sister replied, asking if I needed a hug. I did. Before I told Laine, I told my dad. I really didn’t want to go home after work. For the last 5 months or so, five pm ment I raced off to see Lindsey. Now where do I race off too? I didn’t want to go home and be alone either. He said that I could come over for dinner, and if Lindsey was coming too…

I told him, bought some shoes, and had tacos for dinner.

Gerri said that she thought we were a good match. Not that I could have changed what happened, not that she wanted me to either. I felt like Ender facing the bugger’s home world with a fleet of old ships, and I knew that it wasn’t a test. Gerri said she’d buy me lunch the next day.

That is how the nights are. They remind me of how alone I now am.

Jeribai, Josh, my family, Gerri, Gabe, Marla, Steven, are all the people that I have told. Ryan and Nina still don’t know, and they are the ones that always ask about Lindsey.

Some times things just need to be put in perspective. We are both young, we both will go on. This isn’t the end of the world.

I met with Lindsey on Sunday. We had planned for Tuesday. Tuesday would have been a week from the day. Much too long. I really wanted to see her on Sunday, but she had to leave town, and was getting back late. Late is bad. Late is the time of dark, and the time of dark is the time of alone. Monday wouldn’t work either, I work late. Tuesday was just too hard, too far away.

I texted her, she called me, and I decided on a meeting place without help from my head.

I think things are good now. We will be friends.

“So are you giving me back my sweater because you are breaking up with me?”

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