A change in direction
31 August 2008
Filed under Uncategorized
Tags: breakups, Bridget Jones, crying, kiss, letting go, love, relationships
I broke up with Tom. Yes, it was a terrible conversation. (what did you expect?) He wished me good luck with life (since clearly we would never speak again) and he added that if I was actually waiting for that happy-ending fairy tale, well, good luck with that too. (*sigh*)
I discovered last night that there is hardly any inspiration in poetry or television for women who have broken the hearts of completely devoted boyfriends. Please let me know if you have discovered otherwise. In the meantime, I recommend Bridget Jones. Helen Fielding is absolutely brilliant. She made me laugh last night when I was searching for a way not to cry.
Either I have had way too much experience with breaking up relationships or I just know by now that it’s worse if I drag it out, and that everyone deserves to know that their lover no longer loves them the moment that their lover realizes it.
I anticipate the voice of this blog to change a bit. I’m now a single female writer in New York City, (a position way too close to Carrie Bradshaw for my comfort zone). My situation is less personal and more universal, whether I want it to be or not. The situations I describe will be those of my own but also those of my closest friends, of women whose stories chanced my way even when they didn’t realize it.
p.s. Kissing is still great. I recommend a daily portion if you can manage it without have to give it all away. It will make you smile. 
Kissing everything goodbye
29 August 2008
Filed under Uncategorized
Tags: cheating, kiss, long distance, relationships
About a year and three months ago, I received a kiss. It was so simple and innocent, a reward after going on drives through the country with a guy for several weeks, an end of meaningless hookups and the beginning of a six month relationship. Kisses are great.
Last night, I kissed a guy, and in doing so, turned another page in my life. It was simple, but not so innocent, because it means that I cheated.
I’ve never cheated before, I never wanted to, and I have a strong disrespect for those who do. But here I am, and I’m not quite sure what to do about it. But I know that while it’s wrong to cheat, it’s worse to lie about it and pretend it never happened. I have to tell Tom, because I just broke the trust in our relationship, and he has a right to know.
On the other hand, I find myself surprised at my general reaction. I assumed that if I ever cheated, the memory would make me sick to my stomach and I would regret everything about it. Although I deeply regret how much I will hurt Tom, the kiss itself makes me smile, I liked it.
Sure the guy’s great, and I’d like kissing him again, but I can’t help but think that there’s more to it because I also feel a bit of relief. I never would have kissed him if I was completely happy with my relationship. Aside from the fact that Tom is 1,000 miles away and not coming anywhere near me for at least another month, probably more, I wanted out in general.
I had finally talked myself into accepting it, knowing that I would be happy with Tom, that our relationship is comfortable, and honestly, we would have the smartest most adorable kids… Two days ago, we were planning a trip for him to visit in October. We were talking about getting a dog (and perhaps a snake if he managed to convince me) in January when he moved here. So why would I ruin something I had just fixed unless I left like I needed to find the exit door?
Last night’s kiss was my way out. It was my choice, and in itself a bad one. But I hope I will eventually be happy with the outcome. Kisses tend to be a good thing in my life, and I’d like to think that they’ve got my back.
25 August 2008 
A dangerous instinct
When I talked to him today, I felt like I didn’t know him. He was a friend, far away, playing a video game while I shopped for coffee. Was this the same man I had ached for just last week? I wondered if he always sounded that distant, detached, and I hate to say it, but boring. Or if he sensed the detachment too and didn’t know how to talk about it. Or maybe it was all in my head. My head had gone through some serious reconstruction over the last two weeks.
We had a perfect relationship, which is the problem of course. Now everything’s not perfect, I’m 1,000 miles while he’s stuck at home with video games and a job at the grocery store. And yet I don’t know how to talk to him. I don’t know how to bring up that conversation, how to say that I’m worried about whether he’ll actually make it here, how to say that I have doubts. He’ll flip out, I think. He’ll think I’m trying to break up with him.
The first time a challenge hits any relationship I’ve had, it prompts me to run, instead of discuss, because I doubt its perfection. Doubt, Blair says, is the most powerful and most dangerous instinct. It’s what keeps me running. I’m so sick of running, but I don’t know how to stop.
I’m waiting for the sign that blinds me, that shouts to me, “YES, THIS IS IT! THIS MAN IS THE ONE.” Then there will be no more doubt, and I don’t want to stop until I see it. At this point, I’m wondering if I’ll ever see it.
Protected: A different kind of tug-of-war
14 August 2008
Filed under Uncategorized
Tags: long distance, relationships, unattainable
