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Archive for February, 2011

I didn’t question why you stopped talking to me, not because i didn’t mind, but because I knew why. But I did mind. a lot. We get along so well, and that’s a big deal for me, because most people bug the crap out of me. you bug me very little, and I miss you a lot. You are one of my favorite people ever. I’ve been thinking about you so much lately. I’ve been seeing people who remind me of you, everywhere, and I perk up for a second before I figure out it’s not you. Just because I am in a relationship with someone else doesn’t mean I don’t really truly care about you. I do. just because i’m happy and in love, doesn’t mean my life wouldn’t be better if you were in it. it would.

I was hoping you would do me the honor of being your friend when I got here this year. I know i tortured you complaining about X all summer, and I’m really sorry for that. At that point i didn’t realize how mean that was. I guess because of the nature of our relationship when it first existed I didn’t think you really cared, but i should have known that you are a different person now, because I am too.

I should probably stop here, as I don’t see how this is helpful. I literally couldn’t help pointing out at the store how we don’t hang out because it really bothers me, but I don’t want to beg you or brow-beat you into being my friend. I respect your feelings, and I’m sorry that this didn’t work out, and that we can’t hang anymore. Thank you for messaging me. I’m sure I’ll see you at Hannaford’s soon.
hugs,

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It was right before you moved out of view that I started missing you. I was watching from the back. And you craned your neck in a distinct way that seemed typical of your curiosity and cuteness. It was just a mid-step-moment when I saw this and I kept walking. But then I turned back hoping for a second glance. Only no amount of craning and turning, of my neck this time, could put you back into view and I had to accept that you were gone.

I made a joke with my roommate when I got back. He asked how it all went and if I had seen you off. I told him I was free! And he said, “We should get some strippers!” We both laughed, but neither of us meant it. I was pretty mopey all night.

There are some benefits to our arrangement no doubt. I like the holiday feeling that happens when we get together; both of us skip class and don’t feel bad about it. Run errands together and appreciate the time. And I am shocked that even though our holidays last for months sometimes, I am still not ready for them to end. I mean, even Christmas gets dull after a while.

But still, I’d much rather it if you were here.

I miss you and hurry back to me.

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I am a single woman. Happily so 90% of the time. My life is full of love. Friends of 20 years. Friends of 2 months. Work friends. Dance friends. Gay friends. International friends. Elderly friends. Young friends. Mentor to a 17 year old teenager. Auntie to my friend’s adorable little boys. Friends who text me to check in because they know I’m going on a job interview. Friends who take me to brunch when I’m feeling blue. Friends to celebrate my birthday with. Friends to take care of.

I don’t need a fucking Valentine’s Day card or bouquet of roses to feel appreciated or loved. But here I sit at work getting uber-aggravated while the women around me talk about Valentine’s Day and what their spouse or boyfriend got them. While they receive roses and cards at work and parade around with them. I realized Valentine’s Day doesn’t make me bitter about being single. It makes me bitter and disgusted about women in relationships with men who crow about their gifts and their man’s attention like it’s some kind of trophy. Are you that kind of woman? You gross me out.

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Remember in friends, when ross and rachel went on a break but ross thought they were broken up and he had sex with someone else? it was a hilarious running bit for ages. happy story.

remember on gilmore girls when rory and logan were on a break but logan thought they were broken up and had sex with all those girls? he convinced her, in his mind, he wasn’t cheating, and she forgave him. happy story.

remember when we were sitting in my car and I said I just wanted to break up because going on a break never worked (I gave the above examples even) and you insisted that we just go on a break until valentine’s day? I thought that’s where we left it. but somehow you thought we were broken up and got your ex to blow you in that bathroom at school.

I mostly think it’s hilarious because I TOLD YOU SO. I was right. I win. And I think it’s kind of hot that after 2 years you can still get that dumb bitch to do whatever you want whenever you want. You are quite virile, Darling. Be my valentine.

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Man. I really liked you. You’re so goddamn cute.

I liked that before we met, we figured out that we had a couple mutual friends, so we met at a show at their house.

I liked that you were so down to talk about contraception and the female reproductive system and all my favorite sex ed topics before we’d even made out. I liked that when I put my hand on your hand during the show, you leaned over and kissed me, and then suggested we get out of there. I liked making out with you on the subway platform.

I liked every subsequent amount of time we spent together. I liked that we would laugh and fuck and watch TV and talk about things that mattered and joke around and cuddle. I liked how we would walk together, and you’d offer me your arm to link mine around. I liked that you were so down with my relationship and were so cool about meeting my boyfriend. I liked that you were so open about the other girls you liked and that we could comfortably gossip about what else was going on in our love lives. I liked how much you liked to fuck me, and I certainly liked fucking you too.

I don’t like how hurt I’ve been feeling since I haven’t seen you. You were never really as available as I wanted you to be. I’m sure that was partly a result of living about an hour apart on the train. But I wonder if I wasn’t outwardly radical enough for you. You thought my relationship structure was radical, but I don’t wear that around like you wear your mohawk. I already had pink hair and blue hair; I don’t really need to do that anymore. Maybe that’s part of it too, that I’ve already been through this phase of life that you’re in right now, the post-graduate, quarterlife crisis phase. Saturn’s almost done returning for me, and my life is on the upswing following the epiphany I had a few years ago about what I wanted to do with it. I know you’ll get there too. Maybe you weren’t into my older and wiser slant on your life.

But maybe you just weren’t that into any of it. That’s OK too. I kinda wish you’d just told me though.

I have a feeling that I’m going to run into you tonight. Part of me is looking forward to seeing you, but part of me sort of wishes you’d just drop off the face of the earth. I’ve been feeling so wounded, the last few months, about my failed attempts at dating on this coast. You were this lovely beacon, this bright point amid all the shitty dark dates that I’ve been on out here. But then you went dark too.

It’s too bad, because I didn’t want anything from you. I just liked liking you.

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You really aren’t my type.

Why am I in love with you?

My ‘rents ask me every day. Aren’t you bored with him yet? Can you really be in love with him? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with him?

Then they give me the reasons: he’s not cute, he has no personality, he doesn’t talk. He isn’t anything like us.

Maybe that’s why.

I mean, let’s face it. You are a little boring.

You don’t romance me, you don’t even like to talk about anything sexual. It makes you nervous, even though we’ve done it several times.
You don’t really talk to me. You tell me you love me, but it sounds so forced, like you don’t want to say it but you feel like you have to. I feel so guilty telling you that I love you, because then you have to say it back.
I feel like I’m making you do anything with me, because you seem so nervous and distant.

And yet, I still love you with everything I have.

I don’t understand, but I want to spend my life with you.

I just don’t have a good reason for it.

I love you, but you bore me. Why can’t you be romantic? Why is being in love so hard for you?
You make me feel like everything I do in this relationship is wrong, but you condescend and deal with it because I’m “young”.
So what if I’m younger than you? I’m old enough to know that when you love somebody, you show it.

And you don’t.

…so, why the hell am I in love with you?

I don’t know.

But I am.

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This week sucked. Everything just went weird and wrong. And then you broke up with me over the phone. And you were only my friend! I know you are a crazy basket-case in intensive therapy. But you are a fun crazy basket-case. And all that therapy knowledge that you’ve paid for is there, in your brain, free for my perusal. And you like to give unsolicited advice: yay-bonus! You said so many perceptive things about me right off the bat. I loved that you just got me, without me having to explain. I don’t know if that had to do with you seeing me through a camera lens. You said it was fun hanging out me with because it was exciting to see what parts of me I was going to choose to put out into the world. You said I wasn’t as scattered as I portray myself. I don’t know how in love with me you are, but you shouldn’t have fallen even a little bit in love with me. You knew about my boyfriend from pretty much the beginning. I blame you for allowing yourself to go there. And it is frustrating that, while you understood me so well, you misunderstood that.

It is especially frustrating because this misunderstanding always happens to me. So I should probably take the blame myself. I mean, I know I’m kind of the awesomest, but can I really be blamed for something that is just a fact? Maybe I’ll say it was just bad luck; bad timing. You saw my boyfriend on a bad day and we all felt awkward and I never got to apologize or explain. Also, the way you pose like a bitchy little gay bff makes me act like a bitchy little mean girl, so you never got to hear nice things about him. But i didn’t exactly say bad things either, i just laughed things off that you took seriously. For example, yes, he was a teensy bit jealous of our time together, but not in a violent or bad way, just a normal way. And I never felt i could clear anything up by explaining anyway, because you are so perceptive (or think you are) so you have your own opinions no matter what. I didn’t try to explain over the phone because I was stunned. I tried to explain a little over text, but you response was just what I expected – your opinions could not be swayed.

I think i sometimes like to complain to my friends about the bad stuff my boyfriend does because I don’t want people to know how great our little love nest is. I think people may try to force their way in and stomp on it. It feels so fragile sometimes. But seriously, let’s clear it up right now that I am in no way in an abusive relationship. I, like, totally swear. And I really need to figure out how to stop giving off that vibe. It’s always hard to understand other people’s relationships. I certainly don’t pass judgement in the hopes that people will butt the fuck out of my business.

Anyhoo, my point is, I don’t want to add extra stress to your life and all, cuz, as I mentioned, you really are a basket-case and have enough to deal with from that. It was a great two weeks of palling around, but when you had to spend a whole hour talking to your therapist about our relationship that’s really not something I want to be the cause of. I’m a nice person. I think you are a nice person too, because you are always talking about how you used to be a really bad person, so that implies change. You told me not to take it personally, so I won’t.

And besides, we live in a fucking small town (where no one butts the fuck out of your business) so I’m sure to run into you. And you will pretend everything is fine. Like you didn’t stop hanging out with me because you wanted it to be you fucking me instead of him. Because you act like a fake bitchy little gay boy and can come up with a response to anything, even if it throws you. Can’t wait. I’m pretty great at being frenemies too, since no one wants to be my friend.

Yeesh, that came out all bitchy. I guess you really do bring that out in me. I’m really not mad. I’m sure it’s better this way. You made my brain buzz all frantic when I was with you, and I’m not sure I liked that. Now, even thinking about you, my brain is aflutter. The point is, it’s just silly that guys can’t be my friend. It’s the whole ‘when harry met sally’ debate over and over again. Except not. Because you root for Harry to get Sally in the end of the movie, and I want Harry and Sally to just stay bff’s in real life. No sex. No complications. No one person caring more than the other or jealousy. Just a caring relationship that allows room for other caring relationships that will last. I don’t necessarily need to believe in true love, but I need to believe in this. And don’t you dare tell me ‘well maybe that is true love…?’ because I will throw up on you. I, like, totally swear.

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