I feel weird. I can feel that somewhere deep inside I’m still getting over the JD thing. But it doesn’t come out on the surface at all. I rarely think about the guy, I never try to replay anything from the past – ever since I’ve put together a recollection of what went on the way I now see it right after the breakup, I don’t open that door. But the door Is there. So is the place behind it, where I used to be happy that is now soaking in sadness.
There was a short un-breakup between JD and I that only lasted for two days. My birthday brought it on. Come Sunday I texted him that continuing with what we had started wasn’t healthy for me.
It’s a rather long story. But in short, I could tell what he meant when he said something was missing. It was emotional attachment on his side. Call it love, or fancy or whatnot… But it’s gone.
Sexual appeal and fondness with my smarts and sense of humour are all still there, but the emotional part has extinguished. If it’s gone for good or will rekindle, I don’t know. But this chapter is over for now for sure.
The date last Thursday went alright. He’s been more on the asking side, I’ve found a number of similarities with G. Definitely a G.2.
Unlike the first time, not only do I see his moves, but also what he’s trying to accomplish. Also see through all his BS.
All in all, he’s a good distraction, fun and smart, no more. He asked me out again. And since he’s a good kisser, I’m going. Also bought me a coffee today, called first and asked me about my preference too.
We agreed to go for a drink on Thursday. JM said that Thursday worked for him too, but a. if I wait for the guy, I’ll die without much action and b. I can squeeze both in one evening. I’m a master planner!
I decided to write down the whole thing – in case I am writing memoirs when I am old and surrounded by multiple grandkids – I also thought it went funny. Tragicomedy.
(He wakes up at eight and tells me he fell asleep on the couch)
– Can I come over?
– Come over? I didn’t realise we were meeting at my place. But sure.
– I want to talk about something.
Upon arrival – he comes in, sits down at the kitchen table:
– I think I don’t want to date you anymore.
– Something is missing. I don’t want to lead you on any further. It’s unfair.
– Which is a bummer, we had a lot of fun together.
– Yes, we did.
– I have some of your stuff in the car. I’ll bring it over.
– Sure. Oh, can I get the name of your cologne?
– PAUSES. LOOKS PUZZLED. Um – my perfume?
– Yes. Yves Saint Laurent something…
– LOOKS EVEN MORE PUZZLED. STARTS LOOKING AROUND FOR A PEN. Sure. I can write it down… Or I will text it to you!
– OK. Do I owe you anything? Like any of your stuff?
Hugs me after he brings the stuff from his car. Presses his face against my neck – I push away, we say goodbye. He messages me on Monday (August 7th) – link to his perfume and apologises for not sending it earlier. I thank him. He says I am welcome.
While JM is still stuck in his bubble, I am going on a date or should I say for drinks with my smoking busy tomorrow night.
It’s a new experience for me, getting a guy from a back burner. 🙂 We’ll see how it goes.
Getting over a breakup this time around is so easy that I am still trying to figure out what made it so.
I was actually in an exceptionally good mood yesterday. Not the sick feverish mood fuelled by either denial, spite or false hope of “he may yet change his mind” either. Just a healthy contempt mood with a clear realisation of “he’s gone for good”.
It was partly fuelled by my two backups messaging me – JM and my smoking buddy who is also from his town (actually, he’s also Italian and they even look somewhat alike, as well as have other things in common). But mostly because I had so much fun with friends and family over this weekend.
Back to the topic – one of the most important parts (if not the most important one) of a relationship is mutual thrill, excitement and admiration – this piece where you feel warm and fuzzy about a person, feel drawn to them – it also has to have respect, like I wrote few times before – but without it a relationship is doomed. So when JD told me that this part was gone for him, I knew we were through. The only logical thing to do is to drop my end of the thing – otherwise it’s as silly as if you keep holding the phone at your ear long after the other person hung up.
Most of the time when we choose words we don’t do it consciously. We just speak. Or write. Or think.
I was texting with my friend yesterday, and used the expression “I got dumped”. And immediately felt something like an itch, or when you’re wearing uncomfortable shoes or clothing.
I reread the post I made here on the subject – and it clicked – breakup is the right word, getting dumped isn’t!
I’m not an object to feel like someone can dump me. I’m a person with my own will. All that another person can do to me, is quit being in my life.
Does it hurt? It definitely does so. Like any other loss. You’re upset when you lose your favourite pen/sunglasses/whatnot. Of course you’re sad when a person you had feelings for decides to walk away.
But what differentiates a mature approach to the whole thing from infantile one is that I don’t feel like a victim, don’t accuse the guy of betrayal, don’t feel like I’m broken. Things break. I just feel sad, upset and down. And from experience I know that this, too will pass.
I was also listening to Roxette on my run this morning. I don’t like their after breakup songs anymore at all. All this sitting around, staring at walls, thinking about the guy and hoping he’s thinking about her too crap is well, crap.
It’s surrendering, it’s self victimisation. Self pity. Gloating over your own misery.
I have now developed a rehab program that works for me – getting together with friends and family, watching movies, shopping (clothing shopping can be tricky though – I keep swinging between slutty and kinky stuff and dark and ugly stuff), running, cleaning (of all things!!!).
I guess it takes the lowest low to assess one’s progress. Two years ago I was in shards and shreds. G. took advantage of it and I ended up in a six months of bullshit sex only.
Sounds like I blame him, right? Not at all. I was the one who felt like a hurt sheep and let a wolf who donned a sheep’s skin approach me.
I’m not doing it again. I only shed few tears so far. And this time I think I had more reasons – the guy shortened the distance way further than anyone before him.
And yet, I’m relatively alright. I did pick up smoking again and drank few beers. Was also more hopeful about JM than I had in a few months… But now I’m mostly relying on my friends, not a guy to support me through my recovery. So far so good.
Over a week ago I was analysing how the expression “I’m not a good company” triggered my fear since S. (the Brit woo was my first daily experience after separation) used it shortly before he ditched me.
When JD said “something is missing” yesterday, I realised it sounded very similar to “no butterflies” in S.’s case.
Now, here’s where the similarities get creepy – S. ditched me exactly two years ago! August 4th. Funny!
Something is missing… He doesn’t want to lead me on. That’s what I heard when he came over this evening to break up with me.
Oh well. Life goes on.