passion...schmassion

day 10191: flying high

I wanted to believe that I was different. I wanted to think that I wasn’t like everyone else and didn’t experience the same things that everyone else does when they *sob* breakup. I’m special, I told myself, my feelings are that much more intense than anyone else’s, I loved him that much more deeply.

[Insert pseudo-drama voice here, here and here. Flutter eyelashes here… a little more... perfect…]

I’ll love only once, I’m strong, I’ll recover… yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah…

*slap, slap*

Wake up, chickie and stop deluding yourself.

*slap* Once more for good measure…

Then the haze faded, I woke up, started smelling the rank leftovers of old Corona bottles, and realized that hey, I was like everyone else, I had been deluding myself, people go through breakup crisis all the time. They survived. I’ll survive. And so I did survive.

I’m finally at the peace and acceptance stage (which was very likely helped along by my unintentional overdose of Advil Extra Strength Liqui-Gels of which I was only supposed to take one at a time, but mistakenly have been taking two… oops), but nonetheless, I’m decided recovered.

But, to torture myself one last time, I’ll relive it just for you. J-the-actress styles...avec dripping drama and all that glorious crap…

anger/denial

Damn you, I started the conversation. How DARE you be the one to break up with me? I’m the one breaking up with you. I DUMP YOU. What? No way. Go to hell, you piece of poop. You don’t mean anything to me. He doesn’t mean anything to me, right? We’re not really broken up, we’re just on another break again. We’ll get back together. No we won’t… Sex with the ex is the best, right? We can still be friends… can’t we?

mourning/bargaining/depression/regret/despair/blame

Damn him. He didn’t know a good thing when it stared him in the face. I miss being his friend more than I miss going out with him. *sob* I’ve lost my best friend… *wahhhh*

Please God, make him realize what an idiot he is and make him come back to me. Or at least make it ok for us to be friends again. If I can’t have him in my bed, I still want him to hang out with me… please God… don’t you love me? Why don’t you just tear my heart out and feed it to the Devil? You’re punishing me for having premarital sex aren’t you… I swear I’ll never look at another boy but him again… I swear it… please with a cherry on top?

Damn me. I never should have slept with him.

Damn her for hurting him, why can’t he get over her already.

anger/fear of the future/lonely/revenge

DAMN HIM!!

I’m never going to find someone as cool as him again. I need a rebound boy. Lonely, I’m so lonely I could die… I’m never going to love again… Memories, like the corners of my mind

I hope he dies. I hope she dies. I hope all his hair falls out in chunks. I hope he never gets laid again. I hope someone keys his car, breaks his heart, steals all his furniture. I hope he can never have children. I hope he becomes allergic to beer. *gasp* Now I’ve gone too far…

learning how to be single again

What the heck did I do with my time before “us.” I have no idea who I am. I must go find myself. Oh where, oh where has my little J gone… I don’t know how to be alone. I can’t stand my own company. I hate watching tv by myself. Anyone want to go clubbing on Monday? Kill me, shoot me… just don’t leave me!

peace and acceptance

Good times, good memories for the most part. But it’s over and done with. Sure, still think about him on the occasion, but he’s not my first thought of the day, not the last thing I think about before I sleep either. Peace at last and undisturbed sleep.

By myself.

I am a survivor.