things we never want to hear.

It's funny how once a break up becomes part of your past, you tend to forget how frustrating and gut-wrenching and just utterly maddening it can be. All you remember is the heartbreak and the sadness. Or at least, that's all I ever remember.

But right now, I'm in the middle of the anger and if I don't say something about it, I'm going to lose my mind. It's this one line he said:

I always thought you were too good for me.

No. Just no. When you find someone who is "too good" for you, you do anything you can to hold on to him/her until you can't any longer. You do anything you can to keep him/her in your life. You don't push them away until they feel utterly worthless to you. You just don't.

Please, don't lie to me.

I really could have lived without hearing that. I would have preferred to be told almost anything else. Hell, I think I would have preferred he agreed with me when I said I felt like he never thought I was good enough for him.

I wanted to make sure I wasn't the only one that went through this during a break up, so I asked people on twitter to tell me the line they hate to hear most in a breakup, the one sentence they could live without. This is what they came up with:

It's not you, it's me. -@kcessna
God told me we can't be together. -@kcessna
Here's your ring back. -@desa155
There's things in my life I want to do that don't include you. -@desa155
You'll be better off without me. -@anglin12
We can still hang out. -@anglin12
I still love you. -@anglin12
Things are different than they were at the beginning. -@TrevinoJake
I can't let feelings get in the way of this decision... I want a divorce. -@bfdchris
I found someone else. -@kevinized100
You're a great guy, more than any woman could ask for, just not what I need. -@sejose24

I have to thank these people for being so kind as to share those memories with me. Especially since some of them shared their frustration with the line too. I wish there was something we could do or say to counteract the anger, to make it better. Even if that meant just forgetting. Especially when it just feels like a downright lie, or is completely offensive.

What he said is reverberating through my head. I have turned the line over and examined it a hundred times and it never gets any better. I can't wait until the day when I'm over this.

Thank you to all who have reached out to me and assured me that that day will come. <33 I appreciate you guys more than I know how to express.

Confessions.

{via.}

Confession is defined as an admission of misdeeds or faults. (You know, according to Google. And we all know how right Google always is.) Well, this is my confession:

I have no idea how to be completely single. Since the seventh grade, I have not been completely single for more than a month. There were times in high school and college where nominally I was, as in we weren't "exclusive" or whatever. But I really don't think I've ever not been involved with someone.

I have no idea how to be alone.

I am completely 100% single rightthissecond and I want to stay that way. I want to meet this single Valorie, this girl who I've never even seen. I'm a little sad that I didn't get to meet her as a teenager, but I assume she'd be cool as a twenty-something too.

Because, let's face it: I need to learn how to be alone.

Right this second, being completely 100% uninvolved with anyone is involving a lot of running, a lot of crying, and listening to "You Start Over Your Way" by Randy Rogers Band on repeat. However, I'm sure this isn't all being single includes. But I'm so used to jumping into another fling or relationship right after this part that I don't know what comes next.

So, confession: I still have a lot to learn.

edit, later: My cousin tweeted this today and I just had to quote it: Single isn't a status. It's a word that best describes a person who is strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others. Needed that today.

This post was brought to you in part by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop.

emails to remind me that heartbreak is a universal thing, and that best friends are our soulmates.

{via.}

From: Me
To: Cyndi

He told me he loved me. That's why this is upsetting me so much. He told me he loved me one night when I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up because he was stroking my hair and he whispered it in my ear because he thought I was still asleep. He's the first really good guy who has loved me who I actually had feelings for back (since the high school version of Mr. Man; let's face it, Mr. Man kind of sucks now). He's the first guy that ever shared my political views, that would drop everything and travel if he could, that opened doors for me, that gave me his jacket when I was cold, that wanted to do mundane things with me like go grocery shopping just because he got to be with me, that would rub my back without me asking, and that not only took my dark past in stride but let me hear about his secrets too. He was the Northeastern blonde-haired blue-eyed boy that I've always thought I'd end up marrying (you know, if Rupert Grint was unavailable). He said 'coffee' with that cute Yankee accent and literally gave me goosebumps and made me weak-kneed when he kissed me. Do you know he's actually the first guy that used the word 'beautiful' to describe me? And 'sexy.' No one else has either called me those things -- I get 'pretty,' or 'hot,' but never 'Beautiful.' And yet we could still totally geek out and watch old reruns of Inuyasha together and study together somewhat diligently and fall asleep on the couch cuddling.

I know I said I was going to be careful, that I'd guard myself, that I wouldn't fall for this one. But fuck, by the time I said that I was already way over my head. And I would really desperately like to hate him, but that truth of the matter is that if he knocked on my door rightthissecond and said it was a mistake, that he loves me, that he hates himself, I'd probably take him back. And I really just hate myself for that.

And I totally know this is normal and that every one goes through this and that even though I think right now that he's over me and that I'll never be over him and that my life is over, it's not. So you don't need to remind me. I know I'll be okay. I'm just going to buy some hair dye and some ice cream and I'll be okay soon. But right now, I really need someone else to hate him too, so even though you met him for about five seconds, and know nothing about him, I really need you to tell me that you hate him too.

From: Cyndi
To: Me

1. I read all of this.
2. Hate is a strong word and I refuse to apply it to a singular person. Inanimate objects, sure. People by themselves, no.

But I'll say I hate boys like him.

Boys like him, and like Z. Those boys who are so ridiculously good to you, you initially start out scared for how things'll turn out, because it can't be true. So you edge off a bit, then fall in like Alice through the rabbit hole. And things are seemingly perfect because he seems like the closest you'll ever find to a soul mate because you have the same taste in music, have the same weird habits and can have debates about stupid things like typography. Because he said all those things you've been dying to hear and kissed away every insecurity and instance of self doubt.

But the moment it all ends they leave you in this state of self-loathing. Of wondering why you can't hold on to the only thing you thought was worthwhile in your life and the only person you thought would love you that way. And you live with replayed silly memories as well as the instant that you knew things were over. And you know you'd take him back no matter what. Because lets face it, in my case, Z has been beyond douche, and I'd like to think I wouldn't, but if he so much as skyped me right now being like "I miss you, lets give us another chance, etc." I'd be down for it in a heart beat.

And you know what. It's not normal. Everyone goes through it yes, but its not normal. Because no one should have to feel like this. No one deserves it. No one can act like (or should act like and claim) that this is normal or that you'll ever be okay again. Because you won't be. No matter how subtly this'll change you in some way. And how can that be okay? You'll recover. That's a sure thing. But you've also lost something.

Yes. I hate boys like him. That's the aspect that's ok to hate. I hate them with every fiber in my being and every tear that I shed and every breath and beat that courses through me.

From: Me
To: Cyndi

You're right. I don't hate him. I never could, even if I wanted to. Even if I was okay with hating another human being. But the fact of the matter is that he is another real life person with a thoughts and feelings and a heart beat, a heart beat that once lulled me to sleep and convinced me that everything would be okay, that it was finally safe to be truly happy. And if nothing else, I'll always care deeply about the idyllic few weeks we had before the real world came in and reminded us that nothing is perfect, that happiness is followed by sorrow, and that love is fleeting.

Living out loud and being honest and sucking it up.

Since April I've been doing this thing where I'm not censoring myself on this blog anymore. Because, I mean, what the fuck is the point of that? It's my blog. I'll be me, you'll be you. If it doesn't work, okay.

Which is exactly what happened. I've gotten closer to people through this. A lot of you encouraged me. Encouragement made my behavior extend even further into my real life. But, there were the friends that didn't like my honesty.

I just call them people now.

Like yes, it sucks. Friend breakups are sometimes worse than romantic breakups. It doesn't matter if the ending is simply growing apart, passive-aggressive bullshit that gets swept under the rug, or an explosion of fire and OMFGIHATEYOUGODIE.

I've gone through all three. It's like... I never really know what to do, especially with the passive-aggressive. Do I try to pretend nothing happened? Do I apologize?

Then I remind myself: No. I'm an adult. If I want to get a tattoo and write a book and sleep at Mr. Man's and have a try-anything-once attitude and talk about sex, that's my prerogative. Plus, it's not like I'm being the girl that slept with 1000 men. {Sidebar: I'm not sure if that disgusts me or inspires me. STD: disgusting. Doing what you want and living life on purpose: inspiring.} I don't have to apologize for being who I am. If you don't like it, shove it don't read. Don't hang out with me.

We're adults here. We choose who we spend time with. Novel, I know. So, while it sucks that some of my friends people don't like the honest side of me, I'm sucking it up. I'm realizing that I can't please everyone, and that's okay. It is okay to be me, to live my life out loud, with purpose, and for some people to not be okay with that. It's good, even. I may ruffle some feathers, I may stir the pot, but if no one ever did that we'd never make any progress.

Broken-Heart Letter

"Whatever life takes away from you, let it go. When you surrender and let go of the past, you allow yourself to be fully alive in the moment. Letting go of the past means you can enjoy the dream that is happening right now."--dmr

Dear Boy A,

First and foremost, I'm pretty glad that you don't know I have this blog. I talk about you a lot. Most of it is good, but this letter might not be so much.

You broke my heart. Period, end of story. But you know that already.

We were good together, in every way. People say that no one falls in love in high school, but we did, and we knew it. Everyone around us knew it. Even our parents were preparing themselves for us to get married. I never told you this, but when we went prom dress shopping my parents joked that I should just buy a white dress so I could wear it again for our wedding everyone was sure we'd have in two years. Not only that, we took our relationship seriously and actually talked about getting married after a few years of college.

And then one day... we broke up. I don't know why, to be honest. When people ask me why, I say it was because we were going off to college, or we were bored, or we needed a break, or we got in a stupid fight and were too proud to apologize.

But, none of that's true. I think part of it was that we both got cold feet. I think we realized we were 17 years old and were already with the person we thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives with and it scared us. We didn't know how to handle what everyone around us already "knew." I think the pressure was too much.

However, why isn't really what broke my heart for so long. The point was that we were apart, and that sucked. But what was even worse was what happened after.

Not speaking to me for three months? That was lame.

Dropping out of school, starting to drink and do drugs, and basically become someone that most of the people I know from high school are disappointed in because you had so much potential? That is really lame.

Becoming a total jackass though? That was entirely uncalled for. You were always sarcastic and rough around the edges, but a nice guy I still can't believe half the shit you put my through. You gave my phone number out to people, even ones you barely knew like your managers, and encouraged them to call me when they were drunk for kicks and giggles. I got a phone call about how much you missed me from another unknown person every holiday for over a year, and I could hear you giggling in the background. Do you know how hard it was to sit there, Christmas Eve, and listen to someone I didn't even know tell me that you still loved me and were on your way to my grandmother's house, when I knew that was you in the background laughing? That was beyond jacked up. I got voice mail after voice mail like that, most from people I didn't even know. When I finally got up the guts to call you and tell you to knock it off or take me out of your phone since you clearly weren't taking the let's-still-be-friends part of our break up seriously, you apologized and acted like a nice guy again, but you were just playing me, which I found out pretty quickly.

I cannot believe you told a bunch of the people I went to high school with that you were just using me the whole time we'd been together; that you cheated on me and I really meant nothing to you; that you wanted to see how long you could play the smart girl for a fool and how bad you'd break her heart after. Sometimes, in my most self-doubting moments, I believe it. I really believe I was the stupid girl that fell in love with a boy that never cared. But I know, I know, that's not true. You don't take a girl you're using for sex ring shopping and apply to all the same colleges and spend every waking minute with her. You don't stay up late to watch her sleep or talk about your future together and let her hang out alone with your mom and sister and offer to dig her car out of freak snow storms in March. You don't look at her the way you looked at me and you don't defend her against your friends the way you did for me and you don't waste a year and a half on her. I know nothing you told them was true. So why the hell would you say it?


(This post has been brought to you in part by Mama Kat's writer's workshop. Mosey on over there and see what everyone else wrote about!)

Discovered

I discovered this quote on that one tumblr I used to have. (Oops.)

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like ‘maybe we should just be friends’ or ‘how very perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

Neil Gaiman (that's him in the photo...if you couldn't guess.)

On Breaking Up, Part 2

Remember about two months ago when I posted something about break ups, wondering why they have to be so cruel? I've now gone through another break up since then and wanted to follow up on my previous thoughts.

Quick synopsis in case you're too lazy to go read the full post: I was saying that I didn't understand why breakups have to be mean, why people feel a need to hurt each other in them. "I mean, if two people were together, there was a reason. There was something about each other that they liked and the fact is that that part of them doesn’t go away or change just because they go their separate ways."

The entire reason I'm posting this is not because Kevin and I ended badly. Quite the opposite, in fact. Our break up, which was mutual and entirely peaceful, entirely reaffirmed my belief that people can be friends after a breakup, even when they're older. I realized after On Breaking Up, Part 1, that my main example of a close friend after a break up was my best friend Travis -- but we dated in high school, when relationships are less serious, and it made me wonder if age had some factor in it. As in, is it harder to move on if you (whether or not you consciously realized it) were taking this relationship more seriously, thinking that now that you're in college (or beyond), this could be the person you're going to marry? And if so, does that make it more okay to be mean to one another?

Kevin and I weren't considering getting married, let's get that straight now, but we still could have been rude, we could have been cruel, we could have gotten angry and done really mean things to each other through it. But we didn't, and we didn't see the point in doing it. We knew we had been together for a reason, and that reason didn't change -- our proximity to each other did. (It was the distance that did us in. Sad days, huh?) On my last post on this subject, Judi said "I'm of the opinion that there's really nothing wrong with getting angry. Anger provides us information and sometimes direction. It can help us transition through change to get where we need to go. That being said, what we DO with anger can be a major problem, of course." I don't think I could have said it better (which is why I quoted her).

I've asked this once before, but I'll ask it again: What is it about break ups do you think makes people treat each other like crap? Are there any significant factors in why some people stay friends and some people can't do that?

You guys know this, but I should say it anyways: That photo is not mine, it's from the poster for the movie The Break Up, which if you haven't seen that you NEED to. :]

Totally Awkward Tuesday

Once again, I am participating in this week's Totally Awkward Tuesday, hosted (as always) by Tova Darling. Her story for today is hilarious (and possibly the cliff-notes story of my life from ages 7 - 17) so go check it out.

My story for today is about ex-boyfriends. You'll find that most of my Totally Awkward stories are about ex-boys or room mates (or maybe you won't if you're not a regular reader. hmm...)

As you know (or may not, first time reader) I'm one of my boss's favorites at work, which somehow gets twisted into having to work a lot more than the other swim instructors, ie whenever he/the managers can't/don't want to work. The night of this story, I'm home for the weekend from my first semester of college and there is a swim meet at the pool I work at. Neither my boss nor any of the other managers can make it in, so I'm sitting in the office, attempting to tell the lifeguards (who are all older than me at this point, I might add) what to do, when who should I see but one of my exes walking around on the pool deck. (That's the pool I'm talking about to the left -- with a mechanical shark fin in the water! Not at a swim meet, though. I digress..)

We'll call this one Boy C (yes, there are Boys A & B). Boy C is not technically an ex as much as he is someone I went on a few dates with the summer after my senior year of high school. He decided we should see other people through an email while he was at work one day -- as you can tell, it was love at first sight.

Now, Boy C was very clearly out of place. Mostly because he was wearing a sweater in a sweltering hot indoor pool (there's no air conditioning so the swimmers don't freeze), but also because he was carrying a really nice Nikon or Canon camera near a giant body of water. So, being suspicious of what exactly is going on, I walk out on deck to question him. He commences to tell me that he's snapping photos for the yearbook. We make small talk for a few moments and I inform him that a ceremony honoring the senior swimmers will start soon and he probably wants to get out of the way -- it's not exactly photo-worthy anyways.

So, taking me up on my offer (maybe, I don't remember if I actually told him to join me in the office) he follows me into the office, sits across from me and we start to talk about how his senior year is going. Then, a lifeguard that works there walks into the office. I never really went on a date with this one, but he liked me a lot and had made that very clear on more than one occasion. He also knows who Boy C is (though Boy C doesn't know this when they're introduced.) So he's kind of flirting with me when all of sudden there's a knock on the window to the office. Who should be there but Boy A? Of course.

(For those who don't know, Boy A and I dated for a year and a half in high school and basically broke up because I was going off to college. I began dating Boy C soon after.)

So, now I have Boy A -- the ex that at that point I would have still gotten back together with --, Boy C -- who to this day I like the idea of, but was over him by the time he sat in my office --, and Lifeguard all sitting in the office with me and I have no way to escape because I'm required to be in there and I'm not mean enough to kick them out. Boy C and Boy A know who the other is and when they're introduced there's a very obvious though brief moment of sizing each other up. Lifeguard has realized what's going on by this point and is either openly amused or competitive, I've never really been able to tell, and I'm sinking down slowly in my chair as they start to talk to each other, then all turn to me at the same time and ask who I'm now dating.

Commence sinking lower in my chair (thankfully, I've never really been a blusher). I must have mumbled something about the 23-year-old ex-Marine I actually was dating because I'm asked about him occasionally to this day, but the rest of that conversation was a blur except the moment when another lifeguard (a girl this time, and a friend of mine) walked in, recognized every person in that room and their relation to me, looked at me and said, "Well...this is awkward..." and very quickly fled from the room. I could have pummeled her for not at least taking Lifeguard with her so I could maybe at least one of the ex-boy's to leave based on "needing to do work" but no such luck. She later laughed at me and asked how my evening had gone.

Needless to say, I've since worked up the courage to kick people out of the office when necessary.

On Breaking Up

This whole train of thought started with this tweet: “Okay, since when do breakups mean you have to treat each other badly? What happened to common courtesy, dignity, and civility? Honestly.” (Yes, that is 140 characters or less.) It was about two specific breakups of mine, but I realized it applied to a lot more breakups than just those two – in fact, I think it applies to most breakups because even those that did at least seemingly end well, most turned sour fairly quickly.

The latter is what happened to me at the end of my last two serious relationships. We ended on at least decent terms (the first one better than the most recent) and then they degenerated from there. The first one was with a boy we’ll call simply Boy A. We had dated for roughly a year and a half and when we split ways, it was because we were going off to college and we knew we needed time to grow and become our own people. We vowed to stay friends and reconsider “us” at the end of our sophomore year of college – but I can safely say that won’t happen. Why? First, because we stopped talking to each other for about three months after our break up. Which was fine, it gave us time to heal and grow a little, except after we started talking again, we were on good terms for about two weeks before the problems started – Boy A started spreading rumors about how he had just been using me the entire time we dated, he gave my number out to his managers at his new job and let them call me whenever they wanted to to harass me, he did the same for his new friends and encouraged them to drunk dial me. He and his friends still do that to this day (literally – got a phone call from them last week) even though Boy A and I broke up over a year ago at this point. Yeah, like I said, I won’t be reconsidering a relationship with him anytime soon.

In the more recent one, with a boy I’ll only refer to as Boy B, our breakup itself was peaceful. We were sad about it but I had to do it because I couldn’t see myself marrying him, despite how good of a guy he was, and I didn’t want to draw it out and make it more painful if I already knew it had no future. But, of course, it didn’t stay peaceful for long. Yesterday, he was bashing me on Twitter for every little thing I said, even though it had nothing to do with “us” and he was calling my room mate accusing me of lying to him and cheating on him. Granted, I didn’t handle it well and replied directly to him (DMs, only), probably angering him further, which led to him asking back for all the gifts he’d ever given me, which I happily put in the mail. Then I posted the aforementioned tweet, not really intending for it to be solely about him but about relationships in general, but I guess you can guess which way he took it. This of course degenerated what had been a fragile friendship (or, truce, I guess) into utter chaos and cat fighting. And now we’re not speaking to each other. I don’t foresee it getting better anytime soon.

What makes me sad about these situations is that this didn’t have to happen. I don’t mean to sound like I was a popular kid in high school or a slut or anything (because I definitely wasn’t either of those things), but I’ve dated a lot of guys. Some, like Boy A, were much more serious than others. But out of all the guys I’ve dated, only Boy A, Boy B, and one kid I dated my sophomore year of high school who I would actually kill if I could walk away from it with no consequences, are no longer considered friends of mine. One of my best guyfriends is an ex of mine and I love him to death; we’re extremely close.

So, genuinely being friends after a breakup is possible. Maybe not immediately, but it is possible eventually. My cousin Jackie is a perfect testament to that: she’s friends with most of her exes – it took time with some, but they’re on good terms. As another example, Kevin and his ex that he dated for four years are still friends. Another? My good friend Ryan is on good terms with most of his exes, and even friends with some of them. My friend Sydney is on decent terms with all of her exes but one, and she’s dated more guys than I have. So, it’s possible to be civil and courteous and even friendly. But yet, my friends Ayla and Cyndi would tell you that they’re not friends with most of their exes because it ended messily, but I would bet that most probably had the potential to end okay. So, if it can end cleanly, why don’t people just do that? Why do people insist on being catty and rude? Wouldn’t it seem like ending peacefully would be so much easier and less emotionally draining? And it’s not just girls reacting this way, which is what I would’ve expected if it weren’t for Boys A&B. But, no, guys do it too, and in my experience they’re sometimes worse. Why, though? I mean, if two people were together, there was a reason. There was something about each other that they liked and the fact is that that part of them doesn’t go away or change just because they go their separate ways.

Now, I’m not saying that you have to be civil and friendly in every situation – it’s hard to be even somewhat civil to someone who cheated on you or abused you (see: guy from sophomore year who I would kill), and that’s totally understandable. But it’s as different as it is understandable. Not every relationship ends for those reasons, and I don’t see why breakups that could be perfectly civil aren’t treated that way. Getting angry at each other and tearing each other’s throats out doesn’t make the break up any easier. You’re not going to be happier sooner and you’re not going to put it behind you sooner if all you do is get angry and refuse to deal with and accept what happened.

So, why do people choose that route? Are people cruel to each other because they’re hurting and want to bring the other person down too? Do they think they have to entirely dislike someone to get over them? Or is it just part of human nature and something not all people are willing to put aside for someone they once cared about? I don’t know. Why do you think it happens?

(photo courtesy of romance tips for women.)