Single

Warning: this entry does not flow well, and it is long and whiny. Read at your own risk.

I'm single again. You may have noticed that I've been updating every day for a few days now. It's a byproduct of having too much time on my hands all of a sudden, I suppose. I haven't mentioned that I was dating anyone, mostly because I like to keep my private life fairly private. I am picky about the people to whom I expose my vulnerabilities. There is very little that I deem too sacred for blogging. During the life of a relationship, it is sacred. After the relationship is dead, though, I am allowed to talk about it. So I am. It's over, and I was devastated, and I'm in that delicate post-breakup phase. I really wish I had some close girl friends in LA. *Sigh*

I am a very passionate person. I live for spontaneity and adrenaline rushes. In my relationships, I dislike holding back any of my feelings, even if it means I'm going to get hurt. The way I see it, if we lived in fear of getting hurt all the time, things would move at snail's pace and we'd miss out on all the other opportunities we might've had while we were draggin' things out with one person. Might as well milk it for what it's worth and get it over with.

That said, I am easily hurt, and often. But as my girls will attest, I have the resiliency of a bouncy ball, and it has been improving over time. It used to take me forever to get over someone (the special ones, I never truly get over), but in the past year, something has changed in me. I've learned to let go of hope, which can be a beautiful but dangerous thing. Hope* can keep you going, but it can also drown you in dark pools of delusion. Sometimes we need to give ourselves a nice, hard kick in the ass and say out loud, "He's just not that into me." The hard part is realizing that it's not your fault. So follow the previous statement with, "And he's a fool for it. I don't like fools, therefore he is not worthy of me." And go on with your bad self.

Confidence is the sexiest quality that anyone can possess. Note: I said confidence, and there is a fine line between confidence and cockiness. I think most women I know lack confidence. Even my most beautiful friends look in the mirror and wonder if they're pretty or not, and every woman I know has wondered, at some point, what she's done wrong in the relationship, why he doesn't reciprocate when she's done everything right. Well, if indeed she has done everything right, then it's not her, it's him. He's not right for you anyway, so there's no use in crying over spilt milk. Let's move on. Repeat after me: I deserve someone who appreciates me. You do, and if he doesn't, it's not your fault. Not necessarily his, either. Sometimes you just don't click. Maybe it's not the right time, maybe it's not the right guy. We don't need to blame anyone.

All of that aside, it's a lot easier said than done. I've been trying very hard not to blame myself and very hard not to blame him. And I've been trying to convince myself that I am fabulous, even though I feel completely, totally, and utterly unfabulous right now. If anything, I blame it on the move. I love LA, and I am glad I came out here, but I really really REALLY wish I had some close girl friends. I want shopping/ coffee/ martini buddies. I want to be able to talk about boys and making out. I want to go to a club in a big group and get in for free without waiting in line just because I'm with a bunch of cute girls. I miss all of that. My former roommates are great, but they've got their own lives and they're always busy, so I don't like to bug them too often to play with me.

At first he just said he needed some space. I knew better. I knew something deeper was going on, and that it would only be a matter of time before things completely fell apart. I started bawling. He was confused, bc all he has said was that he needed some space bc he was feeling smothered. I wasn't only bawling bc I knew I was going to lose him, but I was bawling bc I hated the fact that I had let myself suffocate him. I was blaming myself again. I had realized we were spending a lot of time together, but I was being selfish about it. I could have sought out new friends or met with ones who lived a little further away, but I was so comfortable walking one block to his house or hanging out with our mutual friends in the area so I was never motivated enough to go beyond a 3 mile radius of my own apartment. This, I'm sure you can guess, severely limited my social life, and I had really shot myself in the foot.

A brief aside: my apologies for the total lack of organization in this entry, but it's more a semi-stream of consciousness. I am a little discombobulated right now. Still not quite right in the head.

If I had some good girl friends, people I really wanted to hang out with, here in LA, I think that would've saved my relationship. But I became so dependent on him for all of my social needs that he never had any time to himself. Me? I hate being alone. Given the choice, I almost always opt to be in someone else's presence, though lately, that choice has not been mine. Dammit. I need friends! The guys from work are awesome, and i love hanging out with them, but I see them all the time at work and I don't want them to get sick of me, too.

I think I'm gonna go to Vegas this weekend. My favorite ex called and asked me to meet him there. If I were still with the bf, I would've said no without blinking an eye, but the ex called when I was newly broken up and terribly distraught and in need of a friend. I think it'll do me good to get away from here for a weekend, and he's someone who knows me very well. I'm quite fond of him, and it's not because I care to get back together with him at all. It's just so comfortable.

Wow. What a disjointed entry. Fact is, I'm still distraught and confused, trying to suck up the tears and put a smile on my face. This shit ain't easy, but I know I'll be okay. Why? Because I am fabulous, whether a man recognizes it or not.