Long Time, No See

So I have been MIA from the blogging world for roughly four months. Most of you (and by most of I mean, the three of you) who read this blog know exactly why. I have been encouraged by Spain to blog again and she is quite wonderful in helping me when I need it most. So I just wanted to say that I will be back shortly and all my ridiculous adventures will be revealed for your amusement at my stupidity, and lack of both foresight and hindsight.

What a Difference a Year Makes

If you haven't noticed yet, I'm big on the symbolism and signs and all that crap. It is honestly exhausting sometimes, but the OCD part of me simply doesn't allow me to stop recognizing these things. Everything means something; Coach touched nearly every aspect of my life and I can't help that but I know I can change how I associate things from here on out. On the other hand, I feel like I have to believe that everything means something, because if not, if there's no meaning to anything, then to me that is even more depressing.

Last night is a perfect example of this.

Former Roomie was in town and we haven't seen each other since my birthday in January. One of her friends was in town from Vegas so we met them at a bar, then F.R. and I went to Happy Hour and later got a text from her same friends that they were at my most favorite bar in town.

The same bar I met Coach at.

A year ago, yesterday.

Safe to say, I didn't really want to go. But I did, and I am glad, for a couple reasons. It also really sucked, again for a couple reasons.

First, the good:
1. The bar is always a good time.
2. It was our friend Cory's birthday, so there were lots of people I knew.
3. Bret left the karaoke set-up from Friday so we could have karaoke on Saturday too.

Now the bad:
1. Being at the very place where I'd met Coach a year ago to the day, not so fun at first.
2. Upon getting our first drink and sitting down, someone sang Edwin McCain's "I'll Be" - the first song Coach and I ever danced to, the first night we met. I just remember how sweet he was when he came over and asked for my hand, so it was kind of a gut-punch.

Really, it felt like the universe had to slap me in the face just one more time before I could have a good time. But once I got over the shock of wow, how is this possibly happening, we did have a lot of fun. It doesn't seem like something so significant could just be a coincidence, I just know what it's telling me, you know?

That's kind of what makes this all so exhausting, as I said before. I see these signs and the symbolism sometimes, the exhausting part is trying to figure out what the hell it all means.

Unlikely Inspiration

Anyone who knows me knows that I can't stand Taylor Swift. I can't stand her voice, can't stand how much she squints all the time - seriously how hard is it to open your eyes like a normal person? Her performance with Stevie Nicks a few years ago made my ears bleed, and her lyrics are straight from the diary of a 12 year old girl. However, for reasons I can't explain, a year ago I was compelled to buy whatever cd it is that has "Love Story" on it. "You're Not Sorry", "White Horse", and "Breathe" have been especially helpful the last month and a half because sometimes you need to cry and sappy unrequited-love songs help facilitate that.

Anyway, so I'm driving along today, listening to Squint-Eyes Swift, and "Fifteen" plays. Not a great song, just as whiny and annoying as most of the others, but this line jumped out at me:

"In your life you'll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team"

Absolutely, positively, 100% true. Sometimes I just need reminders and who knew Taylor Swift would be the one doing doing the reminding.

Weekly Update

So this last week has been kind of crazy. Woolly Mammoth University fucked up royally. I'm supposed to be student teaching, which I am, no thanks to them. Placements for student teaching are usually sent out over the summer, within a few weeks of school starting, yet I still hadn't received mine and public schools here start on Tuesday the 16th. So, last Tuesday I email the placement person in my program and she says, "Oh, you start tomorrow, grad student often are forgotten by the general placement office."

Awesome. Anyone else think it's a problem that grad students are forgotten?

So, with my summer suddenly gone without warning, I met with my cooperating teacher at my placement, and everything was fine. I like my cooperating teacher, she's funny, and I think it's going to be a good experience.

My contentedness with this semester lasted about a day. Thanks, Woolly Mammoth U.

Around 9 on Thursday morning (when I am already at my placement again, as we're required to be before school starts) I get a call from someone at the main placement office, asking if I am attending the student teaching meeting.

Um, what?

I told her I didn't know about the meeting, that I emailed another supervisor on Tuesday and asked her about my placement because I hadn't received any info and she had this completely unnecessary attitude with me - like it's my fault that I didn't get this info. She kept saying, "Well, I have your name checked off her that I sent this to you."

Great, you can have my name checked off as many times as you want, it doesn't mean I actually received it.

Then she went on to say that an email was sent out about the meeting as well - something I also didn't receive. Awesome. I apparently wasn't supposed to actually start until Thursday afternoon. What a hassle.

And it gets even better.

Yesterday morning my cooperating teacher texts me and asks me to call my site supervisor to reschedule our meeting. Oh look, another meeting I don't know about. I asked her for my site-supervisor's name so I can call him or her, but she said she would just take care of it quick, since she thought I also received the email about the new meeting, since I missed the first meeting.

Oh, and when I got home yesterday I checked the mail, and my placement letter was finally there - a day too late. Funny that it was postmarked on August 8th, when I was told it was sent out LAST WEEK.

Confused yet?

So am I.

FRIENDS Dating

So I have talked about this briefly before; BFF says I have to actually just 'date' - not right now of course, but to date, see each other for a real actual date, no more than 4 or 4 hours tops, then see each other again (if we want to) at least four days later. However, one of the very first texts I saw on TFLN confirms that this is not always the way it goes anymore:

(516): Dating is not our generation's strong point. We're an era that's good at getting laid.

So does anyone actually 'date'? BFF tells me that people over the age of 25 do, and obviously has been a plethora of advice and information since the break-up, all in the hopes of avoiding this devastation again. Apparently people do date, and sometimes for the first month or two, they only see each other every 5-6 days. I guess that means I've never really dated, and that I don't know how. With Coach, we just started hanging out together, went on dates, and it evolved into a relationship even though neither of us expected it at first. The Supposed One and I were actually a Facebook-certified couple, PeteWentz and I weren't even Facebook friends, and Army Guy and I were together before Facebook existed beyond the Ivys.

Anyway, I must have given some thought to dating before, because I came across a notebook that had something interesting in it: a list of all the relationships/dates each character from FRIENDS had in the ten years the show was on the air. I know right, weird? But I was looking at it and realized that maybe this is what BFF is talking about - even though yes I realize it is just a television show (albeit the greatest show to ever air, or at least in the top three). So is this what dating is really supposed to look like?

Monica	Joey	Chandler	Phoebe	Ross	Rachel
Paul the Wine Guy Alan Kevin Milmore Fun Bobby Coma Guy Howard “I win” Scotty Jarret Fireman Doctor Ethan Fun Bobby Jean Claude Richard Julio Richard Translator Guy Pete Chip Matthews Chandler	Andrea Angela Julie Angela Sandy Angela Delvecio Lorraine Ursula Melanie Annabelle Girl w/ Adam’s apple Girl #1 on bus Denise DeMarco Casting Director Erica Ford Movie Chick Shannon Cooper Stacy Roth Stacy’s Roomie Annie Esposito Annie’s sister Lauren Kate Bride’s maid Random girl Curly haired girl Katie Girl Girl’s roommate Janine Erin Kristin Dark-haired girl Hayley Hayley’s roomie Date “yuck” Smart girl Charlie Rachel Sarah Laura	Janice Aurora Janice Janice Nina Danielle Maureen Rizillo Joan Alison Jade Girl #2 on bus Suzy Moss Janice Joanna Joanna Kathy Janice Monica	Subway Guy Tony Divorced Guy David Coma Guy Roger Puppet Guy Dinner Guy Fireman Duncan Rob Dunnan Ryan (Navy) Malcom Guy Upstairs Robert Sergei Vince Jason Larry Gary Kenny Hums When He Pees Pigeon Guy David 3-day ago date Jake Tim Eric British Guy Cliff Parker Mike David Mike	Carol Kristin Celia Julie Rachel Chloe Kaitlyn Bonnie Rachel Amanda Cheryl Poughkeepsie Girl Uptown Girl Canada Girl Emily Elizabeth Hornswaggle Katlyn Hilary Jill Elizabeth Joan Kristin Mona Barcelona Girl Michelle Katie Charlie Joan Rachel	Barry Tony Dimarco Paolo Pete Carney Adam Fireman Doctor Barry Carol’s doctor Carl Paolo Michael Russ Jean Claude Casey Ross Tommy Ross Joshua Danny Sebastion Tag Gavin Joey Ross

I know, maybe I had too much time on my hands (but to be fair, this is from a few years ago). Anyway, they go on dates, never see some of these people again, the end. I don't know, at least with Coach, we just wanted to see each other all the time, so we did. Maybe that wasn't a good idea, given how it ended, but if you like someone and want to get to know them better, shouldn't you hang out with them more? I'm not really good at being patient I suppose, so that's part of the problem. And maybe romcoms and have given me unrealistic expectations about dating. That's why I avoided them - until I started dating Army Guy and developed these annoying things called "feelings". Believe me, and as I'm sure my friends can attest to, life was much easier without them!

Laughter Really is the Best Medicine

I don't mean initially. In those first days after a break-up or whatever else might make you want to sit in the dark and bawl your eyes out for hours, laughter is about the last thing on your mind and that's okay. But gradually there is room for it again, as there should be.

I love to laugh, and I don't always mean AT people, despite what BFF and Macadamia might tell you. But really, truly, make me laugh and I'll love you forever. Is there really a better feeling than laughing so hard that you think your sides are going to split, tears in your eyes, gasping for air? I honestly don't think so, because all people really want out of life is to be happy, and laughter helps make that happen - even if it is just for a short time. It's not that you are fighting the sadness or trying to push it away, because ignoring it will only make it stronger. It's just about taking baby steps to get back to normal, and I really believe that laughter helps that. Not laughter alone of course, there are far more components that go into it than that, but it works for me.

So, regardless of what stage you're at, whether it's the eating-ice-cream-for-lunch-in-pajamas stage or the I-finally-opened-the-blinds-and-looked-outside-today stage, I guarantee a laugh from this site to at least get you started:

www.damnyouautocorrect.com

Hopefully some of those submissions at least make you smile. What do you recommend for laughter?

Just a Thought

In a comment I previously made to Vickie, I said something about how I ignored the signs that things would end badly with Coach because the good times were really good. This made me think about things friends have said in the past when I was with Coach, how they only knew the bad things about him because I never talked about when things were good - probably because I was physically with him, hanging out, going to movies, etc.

It occurred to me that I have been doing the same thing with my blog lately - I write when I am sad or having an especially rough patch and that's no good. Granted, writing helps me really be able to vent and see what I am saying, organize my thoughts and so forth, but my life is by no means terrible. Unlike Chandler, I do have loftier goals than eating peanut clusters all day or drinking in the morning. In fact, my whole goal is to not make this about Coach (which I know seems the opposite of what I have been doing) but about myself and figuring out how to be me again. The problem is, for a very long time he was such a huge part of my life, it's hard to separate him from everything else right now. But it'll get easier as time goes on.

That being said...today is great.

Or, aside from this early wake-up on a Saturday morning, it really is. There's nothing in particular about this day that makes it special, nothing has happened to make it especially noteworthy, it is just good. I just thought that is something I should share, since previous posts have been downers lately and I have only been writing about things that have made me sad or angry. But I'm not always either of those things and I hope this shows that there are certainly days where I am my normal self again and will dispel the idea that I'm just sitting in my bathrobe, surrounded by tissues and chocolate. Hopefully the rest of the day proves to be just good.

...and honestly, I don't even know if I own a bathrobe.

Recoveries and Setbacks

So a friend asked me to write about what these ideas mean to me and how I feel about them...I hope this turned out okay, perhaps it wasn't exactly what I intended when I started writing but this is what I came up with.

**********

Joey: Come on man, you never want to do anything since you and Janice broke up.

Chandler: That's not true. I wanted to wear my bathrobe and eat peanut clusters all day. I wanted to start drinking in the morning. Don't say that I don't have goals!

Honestly, I haven't wanted to do much of anything, much like Chandler. Unlike Joey who can get over a relationship simply by taking a shower, Chandler and I are a tad more sensitive (though I probably more than him) and one of my favorite scenes is at the end of the episode after he and Janice have broken up, and he is just sitting in his recliner, listening to 'Endless Love' by Lionel Richie and singing. Maybe I identify with it, because music is like therapy for me when no one else knows what to do or say. But it's not that I'm just sitting holed up in my apartment all day and night - okay this was true for the first few days because I was a hot mess - it's just that that the things that were interesting to me before really don't hold much interest for me right now. This includes going to the bar on Friday nights that I've gone to for the last couple years - mostly because that is where Coach and I met, and there's no way I'm ready for that, especially seeing him with other girls, that would be too difficult. Either way, it's nothing personal and there are people who have gotten upset with me for not wanting to go out and do things and be my usual self. That in itself is frustrating at times; I know they mean well - at least I hope they do - but pushing me to do something I don't want to do isn't going to help anyone.

No matter what, there are always going to be setbacks in any kind of recovery. It happens, is to be expected, and I'm lucky to have some very understanding friends who realize this. Those who have been most helpful realized very early on that simply telling me to "get over it" is about the least helpful thing you can say to anyone in any kind of difficult situation, and I don't mean specific to just break-ups. I analyze and re-analyze and then over-analyze every situation, every conversation, everything that could mean anything. Some people have an easier time just saying "Fuck it" and moving on. I wish I was the second type, but I'm not. I can't change it, and I certainly won't apologize for it.

Personally, like I have mentioned before, I analyze, re-analyze, and over-analyze. It's a blessing and a curse. Eventually I can make the puzzle pieces fit together in a way that I may not like, but at least I can accept. I'm not at this stage yet, but it will come. Most of my friends would probably consider it more of a curse, but that's how I work through things - whether on my own or with the help of others. And I try to get every possible opinion I can, I tell the same story to six different people, to get six different opinions on what I am saying/thinking/etc, and then I analyze some more. It can be exhausting sometimes, but it helps me overcome a setback by talking my way through it over and over again.

Dealing with the first setbacks were hard, just because I felt like I had made progress, it was like I was starting all over at square one again. But then I talked through it again and again, and gradually the conversations moved from talking about Coach to talking about life, everyday things, the things conversations used to be made of before this mess happened. And I force myself to get out on days that I don't work by running - though as we know from recent experiences, sometimes that is the very reason for my setbacks. But I've noticed recently, that the recovery from a setback is starting to take less time. Last week, I was a mess nearly the whole week and it was not pretty. This week though, despite another set-back, I bounced back a lot more quickly.

I guess what helps the most is knowing who you can really count on - not the ones who tell you what you want to hear, but the ones tell you what you need to hear. The trick is, for it to be helpful, it has to be done in a way that is beneficial. Otherwise, it just ends up driving a rift between friends and that is certainly not going to help at all.

Sometimes I Forget

So the first time Coach made me so sad in April, BFF told me to listen to this song on repeat. I did and it helped. He advised me to do the same this time around and I listen to it every single day. Sometimes I forget that, you know what, I am pretty fucking awesome.

One Month

It's been exactly one month since Coach and I broke up, July 3rd. It's been 3 weeks since I told him I couldn't be friends with him, 2 weeks since he responded.

And so far, it's...not horrible. That's a big surprise.

The one speed-bump today was that I saw him while I was walking (Side note: my knee is killing me, I could barely run on it at all so I had to settle for walking most of the way instead.) Anyway, since I ran into him twice last week, I went earlier than usual even to ensure that I could continue my usual route without running into him. It's still too hard, and it makes me...sad?...that he's perfectly fine, going on about his day, that this has not effected him at all. So anyway, I went thinking I wouldn't see him - I was wrong. He was already in his car around. Just my luck. There I was just ambling along, didn't even notice him at first but when I realized it was him, all I could think was, "Oh fuck." I've been going the same route for three years and even when we were together, I've never seen him when I've gone running - until the last two weeks where I've seen him three times. Does the universe hate me or something?

Anyway, when this all first happened, BFF told me it would get easier, that every day would be better. At first I didn't believe him, because it just felt so awful. I didn't take into account that I've been through this before with Army Guy and The Supposed One. The difference this time I think is that I'm older; I knew what I wanted and I thought I was happy. And don't get me wrong, a lot of times I was happy. But the bad things were awful and as BFF reminds me all the time, I am better off without him. Sometimes though, it's hard to remember that.

A Weekend Getaway

Sometimes just being away for a while helps, as I discovered this weekend. Not running away for weeks or months, but to just have a break from the routine of not having a routine anymore - something I am more than familiar with by now. That was Macadamia's plan. We met halfway between our respective cities and just found adventure that involved history, bars, sculpture gardens, and more history. It was a great distraction, but it was also more than that. I was able to see that I can go out and have fun and not let Coach effect me all the time. It helped to be around someone who didn't know Coach, didn't know anything about our relationship, and to be somewhere that I was not constantly reminded of him or things related to him. When I wanted to talk about him, she listened; sometimes she gave advice, sometimes not. But he was not the focus of the weekend, it was all about me and Macadamia and just having fun. It was just what I needed.

One adventure in particular helped a lot: we ended up at little bar on a main street of a tiny town that had been surrounded by Des Moines as the city grew. We chatted with the bartender; he was cool, we talked football, and he made us some delicious drinks. As the night went on, "Uncle Scotty", as he will be known, says, "I have to run to the bathroom quick, will you two watch the bar and make sure no one goes back there?"

Naturally I asked if I could squirt them with water if they didn't listen, but he said just yelling at them would be sufficient, and if they argued, to say that he was my uncle or something and we were in charge while he was gone. It was an awesome but harrowing couple of minutes, because some of these people were waaaaaaaasted. Luckily, I didn't need to yell at anyone and Uncle Scotty returned quickly.

Not long after, this cute by fairly drunk guy came in. His name was Joe(y)(?), he'd played hockey all over Minnesota, works on an oil rig(?), and frequents that bar. Macadamia and I decided to call it a night around 1:30. Joe shook my hand and told me I was incredibly sexy. Despite his semi-drunken state, this just made me feel good (not to mention, this is the first time ever in the history of our going out that a guy has talked to me instead of Macadamia, I'm serious, she is absolutely beautiful.) Anyway, I told him thank you and I appreciated that. He restated again that I was, in fact, not only 'sexy' but, 'sexy as a mother-fucker'...though I'm not sure exactly what that might actually mean. As Macadamia and I were walking out, I heard him tell Scotty that he thought I was sexy and Scotty replied that I was, indeed, very beautiful. It was a much-needed confidence-boost.

I felt like a different person when I came back, if that makes sense. Not because of the bar or anything, but just because I was out, having fun, laughing and finding a good time. I know that every day is going to get easier, but there will also be set-backs. In particular, I'm not looking forward to the end of the month, all kinds of anniversaries are going to start coming up that will probably make me sad but I will deal with it the way I have dealt with everything else so far: by writing and talking to those who have helped me deal with everything so far. I will be okay.

Break-Up Rituals

I tried my best to find a clip of the girls actually burning all the items from their exes, but for once YouTube failed me and this is the best I could - them discussing it instead. It's a great episode - not only for this but because Chandler manages to get set up on a blind Valentine's Day date with none other than Janice. Just to be clear, I'm not actually condoning the burning of anything belonging to an ex. I've never done that, nor do I plan to. But seeing Rachel, Monica and Phoebe do it is pretty hilarious - especially when they nearly burn down the building.

I don't have a specific ritual of my own, and maybe it's time I do. I tried to remember what happened when Army Guy and I broke up, but neither BFF or I could really recall. I know there was music-listening of course, but really, I was simply almost never alone; I was always with BFF and/or Macadamia. It didn't help that Army Guy and I were very back and forth, so we'd be apart for a while, then kind of back and then off again. What a mess.

As for the break-up with The Supposed One, it was much of the same, I was never really alone; I hung out with BFF, but also with my former roommate Ball. (I should probably point out here that I met The Supposed One because of Ball; they were good friends from living in the dorms together. The Supposed One was always at our apartment and we started dating.) Anyway, I hung out with Ball and his new roommate General Tso - who I eventually was involved with but as always, that's another story altogether - and that's how I got over it, I was never alone. General Tso also made it easier, that's for sure.

But this time, it hasn't been like that. I've immersed myself in SVU marathons and writing, and haven't really seen my friends. I've talked to them, either texting, or on the phone, or on Facebook, but I haven't really hung out with anyone. I don't know why, really. Maybe because of the up and down of the months with Coach, that I feel like some might just think it's another bump and they shouldn't bother listening because we'll just get back together again. I think it is safe to say that's not going to happen, but on the other hand, I told BFF in April that there was no way I'd get back together with him after what happened, and look how that turned out. I could see why some people might not believe that this time is different. Trust me, it is.

But I digress. The idea of having some kind of ritual or routine to help get through the first couple weeks is pretty important; being right in the middle of it now, I see just how important it is. I've got tissues handy, and have basically been blogging, and watching SVU. I tend to stay away from anything too romantic, and SVU is about as un-romantic as you can get...though I am happy to report that naughty thoughts about Christopher Meloni (Detective Stabler) are ever-present. That's a good sign. Aside from that, I don't have any specific ritual. I just make sure I have someone to talk to (usually BFF, despite his insistence that he has to 'work' while he is at work). We don't talk about Coach, at least not always, but just to be talking to someone is a good distraction. I don't have any particularly comfort foods, I usually tend to lose my appetite, but one thing that always seems to intensify is my need to run. I always tried to run as often as possible, but in times like these, I make it a top priority; sometimes more than once a day. That way, I can feel like I'm running away without actually doing it. (Side note, I saw Coach again today. Maybe I need a new route. Bummer.)

Anyway, I want to also give credit where credit is due. Inspiration for this post comes from a comment Vickie made about her own personal break-up routine in a comment on a previous post I made:

"I have a break up ritual to start off the healing process (besides the 80's music of course) - it involves Chinese take-out and Ben and Jerry's ice cream and watching French Kiss. Doesn't cure me, but it's a start...Doesn't make me feel so alone all curled up with my fave foods and movie, makes me somehow feel loved even if it's by food and a movie. And in the beginning sometimes that's enough."

And really, sometimes it is.

What kind of ritual or routine do you follow to get over a break-up?

Well, Crap

Today was not a good day.

I don't even know why. Nothing remotely interesting happened today. I went tanning, ran, and hung out at home, watched SVU, washed dishes - mundane, normal stuff. But I cried during most of those activities.

And I have no idea why.

It could be because I saw him yesterday, maybe I'm not as okay with it as I thought. But how could that shred my whole day today? Maybe it's because yesterday was his birthday and the fact that I know he will be celebrating tomorrow night at the same bar where we met, where we danced for the first time, where he sang to me and we laughed and drank, and (usually) had fun. I can't help but think that he's probably going to be doing those things with someone else tomorrow night, and he will think nothing of his 'best friend' not even being there.

BFF will get upset with me and say that I can't assume anything, but I KNOW Coach, I know that's what he will be doing. And not being a part of his daily life is still taking a lot of getting used. I guess I'm not quite as far as I was hoping.

The Unholy Trinity

You always go back to the people who were there in the beginning - Andie (Dawson's Creek)

I know, right. But who didn't watch DC? Seriously.

It's reassuring when two good friends can go months without speaking, yet pick up right where they left off. And the no-speaking isn't for any reason in particular, there's not been any falling-out, but everyone knows how difficult it is to keep in touch on a regular basis when you're two states away, both in school and/or working full-time, etc.

I am very lucky to have Macadamia and BFF. Beyond lucky, even. I am lucky to have some very good, close friends, but today I want to talk about these two in particular.

Macadamia, BFF and I were pretty much inseparable through the majority of our undergraduate careers, an 'Unholy Trinity' of sorts (We don't use trinity to be offensive, but just to imply that there are three of us. Triangle just sounded weird.) Macadamia and I met the summer after our freshman year, when taking summer classes. We met BFF that fall when he was a freshman, though we were not yet friends with him. It wouldn't be until the following school year that we all lived together in another dorm that we made him our friend, and the rest is history. We had lots of fun, always going to basketball games, footballs games, and pretty much just hanging out all the time. When my family came to visit, it was always a given the Macadamia and BFF would go out to dinner with us, breakfast, everything. They're included because they might as well be family.

But eventually we all have to graduate, right? BFF went off to the West Coast and Macadamia, incidentally, went to my homeland in the Frozen North. It's easy to see how communication gets difficult sometimes, because we all have busy lives (except for me right now, since I'm in that whole 'wallowing' thing). While I did just see BFF when we went to Sin City in April, not to mention I've sobbed to him, yelled to him, laughed with him, and been given talkings-to from him several times in the last 25 days, we don't (under normal non-broken-heart circumstances) usually get to talk every day. But because I have needed him, he's been there.

With Macadamia, on the other hand, I have not since her since LAST April. We've left Facebook comments and such for each other, but there just haven't been conversations like we had in college. It happens, it's an unfortunate side effect of growing up, but some friendships can't be altered, regardless of time or distance. When I first started this blog last week I sent a Facebook message to several friends telling them about it and that I hoped they would read it and let me know what they thought. And thankfully, Macadamia has been reading. She sent me a message stating so and not long after that when I was on the phone with BFF, wallowing, Macadamia texted me saying to call her; she had an idea.

And that's what I love about the other 2/3rds of this trinity: no matter the amount of time or the distance between any of of the three of us, we're still good friends. Put us anywhere together, and it was just like college all over again, like we'd been together all along.

So I called her of course, and it felt exactly as if it did nine years ago when we first met while taking summer classes. People have always questioned how we've been able to even be friends: I'm the loud, out-going one, she's the quieter one. But make no mistake about it, we're much more alike than people realize at first glance; we talked and laughed and it did not feel as though over a year had gone by since we were last able to have a significant conversation. Within an hour we had new inside jokes, new catch-phrases, and a plan.

So despite the fact that yesterday was his birthday and tomorrow night I know he's going to go to the bar we always used to go to, get drunk and have a really good time not missing me, for the first time since we broke up I am looking forward to this weekend. Even if it is fleeting because I'm still on a roller coaster, it's nice to feel happy again.

Who do you lean on when you're dealing with something like this, or even when you're just having a rough day?

That Could Have Been Bad

I saw Coach today.

I know right. How could this have happened, I was doing so well, blah blah blah. It was completely unintentional and suddenly there he was. Problem is, his place of employment is within two blocks of my apartment. And is along the same route I have been running since I moved into said apartment over three years ago. But I am not going to change my route, change my routine, just because I might risk running into him. That would mean I was still giving him consideration in my life. He's not giving me consideration in his life, so I don't need to do the same thing for him. Not really giving thought to his schedule anymore (because as BFF tells me everyday, it no longer matters. What he think doesn't matter, what he does doesn't matter, this is all about me), I did my usual routine and ran the city blocks I've always run.

However, he must have been heading to lunch, because he was just getting to his car as I rounded the corner. Literally, his car was parked right on the street next to the sidewalk I was going to be running down within seconds.

Well, crap.

It's not like it was going to be some big confrontation, I wasn't going to stop, yell at him in the street and cry and tell him off. But I wasn't going to pretend nothing had happened and that I hadn't cried my eyes out over him for days. I made up my mind I was just going to keep my earbuds in, and keep running. And that's exactly what I did. But all kinds of thoughts went through my head - what if he thought I did this on purpose, what if he told everyone I was stalking him, what if, what if, what if. Again, BFF to the rescue when I relayed the story to him when I got home - it doesn't matter what he thinks anymore and he reminded me that I don't care. Even if I still kind of do on at least a very basic level - no one wants to be labeled a stalker when doing something normal and part of their daily routine.

Turns out, there really wasn't much reason to worry. He was getting into his car and closing the door by the time I was even passing him. I suppose he could have realized it was me but did it really matter? I made it to the corner and then he pulled up besides me, but I didn't look at him, don't know if he saw me then, and it doesn't matter. The important thing is, I didn't freak out, I didn't dissolve into a mess, I didn't cry.

I know it doesn't seem like a huge deal, and possibly you're thinking to yourself, "What is wrong with this girl, why is she writing about this? It's so insignificant." But for me, it WAS a big deal. I saw this person who I had seen or talked to almost every day for nearly a year, then nothing for two and a half weeks, and suddenly there he was. This happened before, the first time I saw him after the April Incident. We'd locked eyes and I ended up bursting into tears, nearly running over an old lady on a scooter in my effort to get away just so he wouldn't see me crying (more on this later).

But that didn't happen this time and I don't know what it means. Something good, I hope.

A Recommendation

So Victoria shared this in a comment and I wanted everyone to see it because it's a good 'healing' song, as she described it, plus who doesn't love 80s pop?!

Restless

I'd like to start first by saying today is Coach's birthday. It was very difficult for me to not tell him happy birthday. But I didn't, as BFF has me under a strict "no communication for any reason" order, and for good reason; when I talk to Coach he is sweet and charming and wonderful and I forget all the reasons why us being apart is good. Having some foresight at least, the day immediately following our break-up I returned his birthday gift (a hardcover copy of Those Guys Have All the Fun: Inside the World of ESPN - he would have loved it) and that was my very first baby-step toward getting over this mess.

Whenever I am stressed (and believe me, this break-up is BIG TIME STRESS, as you can see), I imagine all kinds of wonderful, exotic places I can visit. I scour tourism sites and make lists of all the historical sites I want to see. And when that bores me, I look at the hundreds of pictures I took in the places I've already been to and fallen in love with. I get restless with the stress, want to get out of town, away from all the reminders of Coach (the Vegas story with BFF is a prime example of this but, as always, it is for another time.) I don't want this confused with running away, I don't want to be gone forever, but I want to see something new, something not many get to.

I love history, I am addicted to learning all I can specifically about England, Ireland, and Scotland. Luckily, I have had the opportunity to go to all three places, and a few more - namely Vegas, Seattle, Amsterdam and island-hopping around Hawaii. I have been very lucky so far as to have seen the things I have: to have climbed the winding staircases in the remains of Blarney Castle, kissing the stone when I reached the top; I have stood in the very kitchen where Anne Frank and her sister Margot washed dishes as they and their family hid from the Nazis, stood in her bedroom, staring at the wall where she pasted pictures, seen her journal for myself and imagined what it would have been like to live in this cramped space with so many people but still feel so alone; I've stood at the top of Mauna Loa and watched it erupt; I've been swimming with sharks off the North Shore; stood on the memorial of the U.S.S. Arizona, seen all the places I'd only read about in history books about that fateful day in December; I have been on a cruise of Loch Ness, half-heartedly searching for Nessie while enjoying the beautiful landscape; I've stood in the courtyard of Kilmainham Gaol, where many of the leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising were executed; I've stood at the gate of Stirling Castle and looked across the expanse before me to see where William Wallace's men were camped before the battle; I've seen the amazing High Crosses of Ireland, and the last place Titanic docked in Ireland - in Cobh; I've seen the mysteries that are Stonehenge and Newgrange; walked through the Red Light District; the list goes on.

I don't mean to sound braggy, that is not my intention. But I have gone out into the world and lived. I want to keep doing that. But when Coach broke up with me a few weeks ago, I could not remember who that woman was who wanted to see the world. All I wanted to do was sit and wallow and cry. Don't get me wrong, I did plenty of it that, as my friends can attest to. And while it's less now, sometimes I still do those things. But I know it is a good sign that I am getting restless, that I want to go to these places, or discover new ones. How amazing would it be to see the Terra Cotta Warriors, to walk along the Great Wall of China, to see the remains of the Berlin Wall, Auschwitz, King Tut's Tomb and the pyramids, see the ruins of Masada, see how Pompeii is forever locked into that one moment when life as they knew ended without warning. This list too, goes on and on. In fact, all these things are on my bucket list - and incidentally Coach and I created his bucket list together one night, I added things to mine, we talked and laughed til late about the things on our lists that we would do together. But the point is, I am restless and that is good. It means I am on my way. There will be set-backs, I will relapse and cry and question everything, but I will never be at that point again, where I was the day, the week we broke up. For that I (and I'm sure all my friends), are very thankful.