Stuck Like Glue

I’m still here a year later. I don’t mean some dark past premonition of me not being up and kicking. I meant, I’m still here, blogging and figuring out the post relationship pieces of me.

A year ago I was there. And you should know that his tie and the lingerie I wore that night are in a bag in my linen closet. Friends told me I should’ve returned the tie and pocketed the thirty bucks. But I kind of like knowing those things are still around. Like mental reminders that I can flash to.

I think of them now and how they were in the bag I packed for what would be my last weekend at his place. I could barely close that bag. I had over stuffed it with all of my last attempts to put something into the relationship. Instead of verbalizing what I was feeling (cause I didn’t know how) I had over planned for the weekend and set the bar too high. I begged with my eyes, and mentally strained some invisible inner power to reach him that weekend. I had never felt so alone and unloved. It was the first Valentines Day I was in a relationship and it was all a one-sided farce.

Sometimes I'm disgusted with the cowardly blind girl I was. I want to yell back at her 'Do something! Make a ruckus! Yell in his face! Grow a pair!'

A year later, as I spent the day seeing the mailroom deliver flowers and hearing coupley plans spread around the office, I choked up. Not crying with tears choked up, but I literally had a mental cringe and physical ‘ugh’ all day.

A part of me doesn’t believe in love or successful relationships. A part of me fully believes that all relationships fail, whether it’s 25 days in or 25 years. People can’t handle that kind of dedicate intimacy to one person.

A part of me believes that I’ll never get in the dating pool again. I’ll never kiss all those frogs to find a prince. Purely, because I don’t want to waste my time.

A part of me believes that I’ll be on this solo wolf path for awhile and then I’ll meet someone and I won’t even question it. I’ll be wined and dined and dipped by a guy whose older and knows how to kiss and knows how to take down walls and knows how to reassure a girl whose been hit hard. He’ll love me and say it. He’ll make me yell and not tiptoe around him. I’ll make demands and needs. We’ll push and pull each other. And he’ll kiss me first and not later.

A part of me believes that the pain I felt over the last year is still learning how to settle each day.

A part of me believes that he knows what he’s doing when he brings up inside jokes from our relationship, and he’s doing it on purpose to build something between us again.

A part of me believes that he has no idea the pain he stirs up when he brings up inside jokes from our relationship-- which makes a year ago a distant memory that I happily keep more distant each day.