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The Single Plan

So, after two (almost three) years of a constant stream of relationships (mostly with Fred, but also some others while he and I were broken up) I am single. It’s the strangest feeling…I haven’t been single since I was 18. Seriously, the energy I spend people-pleasing will now all be spent on me, and what I want…and for once I’m not chasing anyone, I’m letting myself take a moment to breathe, before plunging back into the dating world.

My girlfriend and I broke up last night. It was very much mutual; for about a month or so we both were considering it, but last night she finally put the words out into the open. (The plan was to break up fab32dbae7083ba1143c03bfcd584d61Friday and simultaneously move out, but this worked too.) Anyway, it was very straightforward at first, and then she left the room and started packing her things. And she was PISSED. But we didn’t fight, I just kind of hid in the room until she came back. We talked, we were calm, and we said all the things we couldn’t the past month. It boils down to three facts: our communication skills sucked, we weren’t happy anymore, and we just aren’t that compatible. The biggest takeaway for me is that a) I need to speak my mind more often, and b) even though you love someone, and want to be the right person for them, sometimes it’s just not meant to be. So we ended on a good note, by the time I left this morning we were joking and kind to each other, our parting words being: “Goodbye, gorgeous.” “Goodbye, handsome.” And just like that, I walked out the door into my new, single life.

Not that this makes everything in my life simple. Nah, I may have just finally unloaded the guilt stacking on my shoulders this past month, but c’mon people, this is ME we’re talking about. So naturally, last night while we were talking and finally coming clean to each other, finally being ourselves free of any expectations, we totally had break up sex. And then we fell asleep together, and woke up this morning and had more sex. What can I say? Just because we are broken up doesn’t mean I don’t still think she’s hot, or that we are suddenly bad at sex together. Nope, it’s like we picked up right where we left off back in May, back when we were happy. And then we discussed possible friends-with-benefits arrangements. I don’t know if we will still hook up or become friends or become strangers, but I do know that I will always care about her. So I’m happy where things left off.

As for my new single life, the plan is to stay single for a while. I need to gather up the pieces of myself and try putting myself back together, into an even better version of myself than I was before all of this. So on Friday I’m moving out, spending the weekend home, and then moving into someplace else on Sunday night. I’m going to find myself, gain back my confidence, and take charge of my life. That’s the plan.

Let’s hope everything unfolds as it should.

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My Cheesy Fall Weekend Post

So, here I am, at work again. In two hours I will be kissing this campus good-bye and going home for the weekend, which I’m actually really excited about. I’ve got plans to hang out with old friends I haven’t seen in months and I’m definitely pumped. Tonight is homecoming for my old high school and after the game is a bonfire. While I have absolutely zero interest in pumpkin-spice lattes, I do love this time of year for the bonfires. Something about that smell, the chilly breeze and the fights over lawn chairs close to the fire makes me feel at home. Plus every time a big group of us nerdy people get together, there is always chaos. The chaos makes me feel at home, too, and gives me a sort of peace inside that knows these crazy people are there for me if I need them. When I think of home, I feel as if the entire town is in a snow globe, standing still in time and never changing. I dread the day when I finally come home and something is different, when reality crashes down and I see that my home has changed without me.

But, hey, just another perk of getting older, right? That’s why I’m not too interested in going to the football game. Yeah, it’s homecoming, but I go to college now, I have a new school to cheer for. Besides, I’ve really missed my boyfriend this week and want to hang out with him one-on-one before going to the bonfire together. Part of me knows that if I wasn’t hanging out with him tonight I’d go, but the other part knows that when I see my younger friends who are still in high school it’ll be different. I feel like high school was a million years ago, because I’m so immersed in this new independent lifestyle. And the school work, the teachers, are nothing compared to how they are in college. The people, too. The attitudes surrounding you are more mature, more I-don’t-give-a-fuck. Little do these high schoolers know that once they get to college their whole lives will change.

Not that I’m super wise now or whatever, and that being a college student makes you all so mighty.  I’m still a fuck-up, I’m just a fuck-up with a diploma.

And it’s nice to just go back in time a little. To see my parents and my dogs and be someone’s kid again. My mom wants to make Halloween cards together, and I just know she all of her decorations up around the house. It’ll be nice to just sit at home and not think about any upcoming exams, just focus on what I want to do and not what I need to do.

Of course there’s always next weekend, where I could be hanging out at the frat houses and getting drunk off my ass, where Caitlin and I watch The Notebook and cry and eat a lot of unhealthy things. But that’s not now, and I’m not going to think about how lonely or busy or boring it could be. Right now I’m a lady on a mission to do laundry, to laugh until my voice goes hoarse, and to see my boyfriend in front of my eyes, and fall in love with him all over again.

Maybe that’s super cheesy, but it’s better that writing about how terrible my French quiz went.

Challenging Change

It is amazing what all can change in a matter of days.

For instance, my grandfather’s death, my two-week trip to Australia, my transition into high school again and again, if I love or hate my dad, and my depression. Who knew that a couple of days could turn everything around so much you can’t even tell the difference between being awake and being asleep. It really just makes you want to stop and catch your breath.

It is amazing what all can change from one conversation.

After having a long talk with my mom, including ten or so minutes of crying, I decided to do something to make myself happy. Something I thought I would never do to get–of all things–happiness. But surreal as it feels, I have decided and acted and am willing to go through the inevitable explosion to come.

I am MOVING ON.

As in done. Finished with Mr. Wrong and going for Mr. Someone New. Well actually not even going for, have gotten. I actually have something pretty concrete here.

Look, I know I rant a lot about guys and their constant run in with a little thing I like to call stupidity (which I have definitely ran into myself; please don’t be offended). That has to be really annoying to read about. “Oh she had some fight with her ex? Big deal. I ate a tuna fish sandwich today, maybe I should write about that. *insert sarcastic face here*” Yet, and yes I am actually going to try to justify this, yet I can’t help but feel lost in these situations, and take advice about my conduct in them very seriously. I don’t want to be stuck with sucky feelings people can dish out, and so to calm down my super-analistic brain I rant. There. Here is the point where you need to stop reading if you don’t care about this crap (although why you would be reading this in the first place would be a fair question to ask).

For nearly a year now, I have desperately tried with my ex boyfriend to make things work. We both loved(love?) each other and were(are, on his part) determined to make things work. We have both gone through mountains of shitty situations in this almost-year, but kept faith in the idea of one day being together and at ease with life.

But here’s the problem. For almost a year I have wanted someone to care for me, to hold me and listen and tolerate my cheesy jokes. And he has wanted something else: me to be with him exclusively, but without the relationship label or any of the responsibility that comes with it. I told him a month ago that I wanted all or nothing. He said he needed some time. So I gave it to him and after a month we are still having the same what-are-we argument.

So, I refuse to be affected by his guilt trips and accusations and shouting. I choose to ignore all of that, stop beating myself up about it, and be with Mr. Someone New. Because so far I’m really happy when I’m with him. I’m happy and interested and excited about life.

Let’s just hope I continue to shove off the people walking all over me…

Eh, I’m up for the challenge.

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