I feel nauseous. And not just a little, but completely sick to my stomach. This is a common reaction of mine to break-ups, and I'm trying to keep that in mind, but it's still bothering me. I feel like I could be okay, if only this feeling would subside. My mind could move on if my body would quit reminding it to be upset.
Last night I went through a few stages of grieving for the last two months; first sadness, then anger, and finally a little bit of relief. I've been so caught up in all of his problems, trying to tip-toe around his issues and be a source of support, trying to be fun and sexy and not too needy and on and on, putting my needs aside with the idea that I was building on something. It's taken up a lot of energy, which I've been aware of (and noting in a journal, because I had allotted six months for this "experiment," and was going to re-evaluate if the effort was worth it after that). The relief was stronger when I woke up this morning, and I even left the house on time and caught the bus, breaking a three-week streak (at least...) of taking cabs to work because I'm lazy and don't get up on time. That's over. A lot of things are over, actually. Drinking more than three nights a week. Potato chips. Snacking (or dinner) after 9:00 pm. I've been feeling fat lately anyway (metabolism slowing down, too many beers), but nothing can make a girl feel like an elephant than getting dumped for someone else. I don't know who she is (I have an idea, but it's based on nothing but intuition, which I've learned is not as reliable as I'd like it to be), but I can only assume she's incredibly hot. Please, Lord, let her be hot. I would much rather he be shallow than me be uninteresting.
After I got to work, though, the relief wore off some, and the sicker I feel the harder it's been to be "okay" with everything. Constant questioning by coworkers wondering how my holiday weekend was didn't help, and while "good" ruled my responses, I told my supervisor that I had been broken up with, so I wasn't feeling well. Which made me tear up a little again, but I was able to keep it together. Ugh. This is so not worth crying over. My roommate and my brother both just got out of three-year relationships, and both break-ups were instigated by the girl. That's worth some tears. But two months? When we weren't even technically going out? What is my problem? I was a disaster after Eric, too, and that was only one month. Something is seriously wrong with me. I used to have a much thicker skin. I also used to be the dumpER, though, not the dumpEE. When did that change? When did I acquire the stink of desperation?
If he has just ended it a week and a half ago for emotional reasons, as he had tried to, I would be fine. It's that he changed his mind, said that he enjoyed being with me and wanted to keep seeing me. That night, he had said he still needed to be alone, to straighten out his thoughts. We said goodnight and I closed the door. Then a few minutes later he called, asked if I had made new plans yet, asked if he could come back up. He said he was wrong, he did want to be with me that night, and invited me back to his place to watch dvd's. I thought it was so romantic. We went, watched, had a couple beers. It was really nice, I felt like things were right again, and we had a rejuvenated round in the bedroom that, to me, spoke of good things to come. We saw eachother again on Sunday; unbeknownst to me at the time, that was our last sleepover. Then fast-forward to Wednesday. We spend the day together at the Seattle Underground, I meet his coworkers, we get our picture taken (yeah, I'm really glad I have that little memento now...). I had to go to class, so we part ways, but discuss possibly getting dinner later, he says he'll let me know if he can. I get a text a few hours later saying he's going to hang out with his friend Lindsay instead, who I've been hanging out with recently as well (which means I could have been invited along, but I wasn't), and then... silence. I thought I was doing him a favor by giving him the space he has professed to desire, but... I'm getting ahead of myself.
After some scattered text mesaging throughout the day, at about 8 o'clock last night I leave him a very lighthearted message asking if he'd like to have a snowball fight, and he texts back saying he was out to dinner, but would call me later. Later ended up being almost four hours later, close to midnight. We chat a little, and then he gets to the meat of it - he's been spending the last few days with someone else. I'm a little taken aback, and ask more questions, and he throws out fun cliches like not wanting to hurt me and wanting to still be friends. Not understanding his whole meaning, I say that fidelity isn't high on my list of priorities, that I'm fine with something being open, but he says that he isn't, he can only see one person at a time, and I'm out. She's in. I don't think being a little upset over this was unreasonable. He apologizes, says he feels like a jerk. I let out the leash on my inner monologue and come back with a sardonic laugh and "Maybe you feel that way for a reason," or something to that effect. Not my finest moment, but biting my tongue has never been a strength. In defensive mode, I try to end the conversation by telling him to "Have fun." He says he doesn't want me to say that to him, he doesn't want me to be mad. I respond that it's okay for me to be mad right now. I tell him I'm going to be mad for a little bit and that I think that's perfectly reasonable. There's more conversation, it loses its importance. He told me to call him when I'm ready or something like that. After we hung up, I remembered that I have a cake pan and a pair of earrings over there. It's subconscious, but I know part of me does that on purpose. Like, by leaving things there, I'll be harder to disentangle from. It obviously doesn't work, but I'll probably keep doing it.
So, unlike the first break-up attempt over him not being able to deal with how "serious" this felt, this one is a horse of a different color. This isn't being emotionally unprepared, this is liking someone else better. After all of four days, if his assertion at the "suddeness" of it all is to be believed. How is that not supposed to be hurtful? How can he possibly expect me not to be at least a little upset? He's said many times that he was sort of a mess before he met me (and has admitted to still being a mess in some ways), and that he feels so much better now, and I've done so much, and blah blah blah. In retrospect, it was wrong to be giving if I was expecting something back; if I wanted to help him, it should have been just for the sake of helping him, not with the idea that maybe he'd make a good boyfriend some day. I still think he will make a good boyfriend some day; just not to me. I was the bandaid, but now my job is done, and he wants to go back out and play.
What I'm probably most ticked off about is when this first started, not the first night but that first week for sure, I specifically said that I'm tired of being the girl that people spend time with until they find something better. I've become a placeholder, and I hate it. I'm not trying to settle down for the rest of my life or anything, but I want some stability. I want someone who cares about me, not what they can get from me. Why is that proving so difficult? When I was younger, I felt like I was constantly being held down by guys that wanted more serious commitments than I was capable of. Now that I actually desire some sort of commitment, there's no one in sight. That's not completely true, in fact there are two people I could call right now and immediately pick up a dating relationship, but... meh. The ones that want me are never the ones that I want.
Just now I had to go downstairs and break Beth for lunch, and leaving this up here, with my phone too, allowed me to think about other things for a while. It was nice. I don't feel like so sick anymore - the little nausea I have left is mostly hunger-based, considering all I managed to choke down earlier was a small fruit smoothie this morning and half a salad at lunch. When I came back up I had a voicemail from Lindsay, who I had texted earlier to see if she'd be out tonight, and I called her back and while we were talking I wasn't even thinking of her as his friend, I was just excited to be seeing her tonight. It was a light-hearted conversation, and probably the first time all day I've laughed and meant it. So... yeah. See? I really did just have to get it out. Things are already better.
I guess the last thing I'm mad about is that he was supposed to go to my company Christmas brunch thing with me this Sunday, but now, obviously, doesn't want to go. He knows how I feel about plans; bailing on me at the last minute is like a slap in the face. Ha, that and as soon as we got off the phone, he logged on to Myspace and took me out of his Top Friends. Seriously. I never even asked to be there, he did that all on his own. Like a week after we met, too. But now? Gone. Can you say petty? Boy, do I know how to pick 'em.