Facebook is interesting. It truly reconnects you to your past and makes you reflect; a platform to remind you of many things including your first heartbreak. The one that was gut-wrenching and devastating and completely changed who you were as a person. The one that made you think you would be alone forever because you didn’t believe in love anymore. And somehow 10 years go by and you look back and realize the person you were once closest to is someone you don’t even know anymore and probably wouldn’t even recognize on the street and you consider yourself ridiculously lucky that the life you are seeing while snooping around on that Facebook page isn’t the life you are leading today. It makes you feel good about the desperation you showed when you tried to force it to work yet they didn’t want you anymore and it makes you appreciate the fact that it took a really long time to recover from the rejection of it all. Never in a million years did I think I would be happy for the fucker or tremendously grateful for the pain he caused or the wisdom I gained from the experience. In other words, life really does go on. You do get over it and love, incredibly, mind-blowing, can’t be without each other, I love you forever, soulmate love, does come around again. Which makes you appreciate the shit even more.
“But there’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begins.” -Mitch Albom
Someone said to me recently that taking time off from work to go to school is like taking a break. I haven’t stopped thinking about this statement since because is it really? And if it is truly a break, am I making the most of it? And why am I so exhausted? If you are on break, shouldn’t you be glowing and smiling and exhilarated (like how I was while I was in France) and not pale, miserable and falling asleep the moment you sit down?
I honestly do not know what it is about business school that knocks you so flat on your ass. I have worked a lot of hours over the years and nothing quite compares to this. I have never been more tired. The kind of tired where you come home and cry a little. The other day I was so tired I turned down a one way street into oncoming traffic. I have never done this before, ever. As a matter of fact, I have made fun of people who have. This definitely wasn’t funny. I was so tired I felt drunk.
And so here we are… I’ve officially reached that point again in the semester where I am wondering what I am doing; questioning everything, researching different business schools, feeling lonely, feeling unhappy, feeling restless and bored, anxious, and in desperate need of a break. It’s like clockwork. The meltdowns are timely and inevitable and I am sick of it.
I told my academic advisor that I want to pack it all up and move to Europe. Then I repeated that same sentence to two more people. So why am I not actually doing this? Why not make the most of this “break”? Here is what I am pondering at the moment; how can I keep my flat, stay in school, but leave the country for six months? Can’t a girl just have it all? There has to be a way to make this work. Or, why not just pack it all up and leave? I didn’t even want to return to the States in the first place. What am I holding on to? What the hell am I so afraid of?
What I am afraid of is that I won’t have an opportunity to do something like this again. I hate not knowing what I am doing. A lot of thoughts going through my head right now, that’s for sure. This is definitely an interesting time in my life. The thing is, I have been wanting this for so long. Business school, that is. And I worked hard to get here. But now that I am here; now that I am “in-it”, I am questioning it. Why do I always do this? I just do not know how to sit still. I am not the kind of person who can thrive on routine, which has gotten me into trouble and has caused a lot of drama, so I should know better. But why not constantly question what you are doing? It is not being unappreciative of the things that you have, it is simply making sure you don’t allow life to just pass you on by. I don’t want life to just pass me on by. I have enough regrets.
“Cuz everybody dies but not everybody lives.” – Drake
When I returned from France I couldn’t help but ask someone I met when I was 22, who still knows me pretty well, what I was like when I was 22. I was surprised and touched by the thoughtful, spot-on response; when I read it, I laughed and cried at the same time because as it turns out, this guy knew me better than I thought he had and well, not much has changed. I am still totally this version of myself; older and none the wiser.
Everyone should have that special person in their life that they’ve known forever; the one you’ve experienced a lot of firsts with, who has broken your heart a little, yet put up with you, stuck around through it all and doesn’t mind when you send them random messages asking to explain who the hell you were at a time you didn’t know who the hell you were. Thanks, MT!
“What were you like at 22, shit have we known each other that long? Fuck, I don’t know if I remember all that well. You were a bit of drama, not too much with me though. You were always pretty down to hang out and have fun, and just go with the flow from what I can remember. You liked to party, liked your friends, always were working hard, and doing something with school and work, and shit. But you were very directionless, kind of lost. You didn’t know where to go, and you didn’t have the balls to go there once you figured out where you did want to go. You were emotional, scared, and needy at times. You weren’t any different than anyone else in that regard though, not at 22. Thats for sure. What else? You were always searching, looking, for what I am not sure, but you were. You were a deep thinker, a believer in the world, in people, in possibilities. You were still healing from the ex-boyfriend. You had trouble reconciling your relationships with your family. All that is pretty much what I remember. Also, always had a good heart, did more for others, and got burnt a bit too much by others for doing so. Always drama with the girlfriends, I do remember that. Haha! Does my recap of you at 22 sound pretty accurate?”
Funny how right when you are thinking about a person you hear from them. It’s the best. I didn’t sleep well last night and started my day with a lot on my mind. Walking to class this morning I was thinking about when I am going back to France, where exactly to travel to and how to make sure I see who I want to see. Then I check my email and had the best message ever with this picture waiting for me, which was truly unexpected and made me smile big. It was just what I needed…
It’s always a little sad when someone decides to leave the city. We knew two years ago that this day would come. When the woman he met made him compromise; she would move to San Francisco and in two years to the date, they would move back to Washington. I love this guy. He is someone who has the best sense of humor and a heart of gold. In spite of my selfishness, (Wanting him to stay put in SF!) I am proud of him for stepping up to the plate. For being a good man and doing whatever it takes for love. KRS, Seattle is going to be damn lucky to have you, “Up in the Anus”!
I opened the can of worms by sending him a text before I left for France, of course not getting a response. France definitely cured me of any residual heartbreak and/or hurt feelings. Travel really does cleanse the soul.
Now I am back and it has been tough readjusting. But for the most part, life has been great. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I am happy. I am at peace with myself. I even like who I am.
So the universe decides to challenge this. I wake up to his text; his three month old response. I felt nothing. Not excitement. Not happiness. Not sadness. Nothing.
But I’ve spent a lot of today trying to decide what I am going to do. Of course I am happy to hear from him. There’s a sick pleasure a woman can sometimes receive when she is given attention and told she is missed. Especially when it is from someone who meant something to her.
Here are my options:
- Ignore the text
- Send a witty and cute response, pretending nothing happened.
- Tell him to go fuck himself
It’s always cyclical. I can easily fall back into his trap. And that would only set me back, which scares me the most. I am also experiencing a certain amount of anxiety and I haven’t felt this way in a while.
But when I think about what it is that I want, hell yeah I want to see where this goes! The answer is that I have to just be honest with myself.