einsteins_girl

Today is 10 months exactly since we broke up. Guess what? I can tell I'm starting to care less and less. I can feel the shift in how I think about you. I had dinner with a good friend on Friday night, and she told me I seem much, much better, and I agree. She also told me that she is so glad you never contacted me because she was afraid I'd get back together with you. But she said she isn't worried about you contacting me now because, if you did, she doesn't think it'd make a difference. I think she's right.

I dreamt about you last night. I have to say, it's getting kind of annoying. I haven't heard from you in 10 months, but my subconscious seems to want to keep you around. ](*,)

Argh. Sigh. Grr. You are so stubborn. It's maddening.

Today, I worked late and ended up taking the last bus home. An attractive man boarded the bus in front of me. No ring either, which is amazing these days. I am far too shy to approach (and still too invested in the relationship that was), so I didn't say anything, just walked past his seat and took my own. But I glanced at him occasionally. It was the first time in 10 months I was physically attracted to someone. Thank you, cute guy with the nice smile and tight behind, for pushing me a bit further along in the healing process. There may be hope for me yet.

It's strange how many good things have happened to me since we broke up. It was almost like my life was waiting for things to end between us, so it could finally start moving forward. I've been keeping a list of all of these good things in my head, so I can tell you, if we ever speak again. How silly is that? But it makes me feel better to think someday you might know. You'd be so happy and impressed and proud and relieved by everything that's happened. I do wonder why it all had to happen after you were gone though. Today I was thinking again about whether you miss me, and then I had a different thought than usual. I was thinking about how I look now (toned and fit) and how accomplished I feel and how much I've done on my own, and it occurred to me... if you don't miss me, you're kind of an idiot. You know me... you know I don't toot my own horn, but my goodness, you let a good thing go when you took me for granted and didn't factor me into your life. I'm starting to see now who I am and what I have to offer, and I'm proud. I can't imagine you'll ever find another girl who tries as hard as I do to learn and grow and be better, and I know you'll never find a girl who will love you as much as I did. So, when I think about whether or not you miss me now, a new thought is creeping in: if you don't, it's your loss. Because you should.

I turned in the keys to the apartment today. Tears started to well up, as I walked through the rooms one last time. It wasn't because I was sad to leave the apartment; it's because that apartment holds my last memories of you. It's so strange to know that I live somewhere now that you've never seen. If you came looking for me now, I won't be there. You don't know about any of this. It's hard to accept that such significant things are happening in my life, and you have no clue. But you probably don't care about that, do you? I realize that these changes are all for my own good, but that doesn't make them any less painful. It doesn't take away the ache I feel, as one-by-one the days go by, and we grow further apart. I just never thought that would happen. For so long, I thought you'd be in my life always. The worst part about all of this will always be the unending silence. I'm not sure I'll ever understand how you could walk away and not try once to reach out to me. I'm torn between thinking it's because you never loved me and thinking it's because you love me so much. A part of me wants to believe that you don't reach out because you know the pull between us, just as well as I do. Because you know that, if we were in contact, it'd be hard for us to stay apart. But then another part of me thinks that you just cut me out of your mind and your life like a tumor, and now, if you think about me at all, it's with gratitude that you don't have to deal with me anymore. I worry that you're thankful we're apart. I worry that you don't miss me. Maybe it shouldn't matter, but it does. I struggle and struggle to move on. I'm working hard to try to better myself and to make changes that will help me through this time. But my thoughts - and my heart - always go back to you, wondering about you, missing you, wishing there was a way we could make things work. It's reached the point now that I can't talk about you to anyone because everyone thinks I should be over it. Everyone thinks you should be a distant memory. They have no idea how present you still are. But how could I erase the past six years of my life and pretend they don't exist? I have to think that it makes sense that I still love you and miss you. Because if love were so easy to stop, what would it be worth? I'll never forget how you would question whether I really loved you or if I was just afraid of being alone. I've been alone for 9.5 months now. I've survived. In some ways, I've even thrived. Being alone doesn't scare me. But the idea of never seeing you or speaking to you again? That. That still scares me. So I guess we know the answer to your question now. I just wish you'd believed me when I'd told you the answer then.

Well, the dreams of you have followed me to my new house. Last night's dream was different though. Usually, I recognize that I'm dreaming, and I know that when I wake up, you won't be there. But the moment with you in last night's dream was so small and natural and commonplace that, when I woke up, I was truly baffled at the idea that you aren't in my life anymore. My dream state remembers you and our relationship in such vivid detail. But when I wake up, it all gets fuzzy again. I miss you and those small, natural, commonplace moments. I can't help but wonder if you miss me too.

I am so stupid. I move into my house tomorrow. I have been packing all day (well, for months, really). My mom and dad came and helped today. I have things to do. I have an exciting change about to happen. And yet it seems like my every thought is consumed by you right now. Everything I pack. Everywhere I look. You. You. You. I'm stuck in this weird state of melancholy, where I can't really be happy about all of this because I always thought it would be happening with you. Because, at the very least, I wish you knew about all of this. I wish you could be excited too. I wish you were still here, somehow, some way. This has been going on so long, and I try and try to forget you, but it seems impossible. You're wedged into every part of my life. It's maddening. How can I still miss you now, nearly ten months later? When I haven't heard a word from you and you've seemingly moved on to someone else? How are you still always what I think about? How are you still here, a ghost haunting my life, when in reality, you've been gone so long?

When I think about my future, I still see you in it. Vividly. It's odd, nine months later, for this to still be happening. I can't help but wonder... will it ever stop?

This week will mark nine months since our BU. Nine months since I've heard from you. It's so weird how time can pass so quickly and so slowly simultaneously. Sometimes I'll be sitting in my apartment, and I'll look at the other end of the couch where you used to sit, and it feels like a figment of my imagination that you ever sat there. Your image is just a fuzzy outline in my mind's eye now. It all seems like it was made up and never really happened. Time and memory are puzzling to me. How can we be so in love with someone one moment, and nine months later, it all feels like a dream we woke up from too soon and can't really remember? I don't know if you read the letter I sent you. Even though I fear receiving it back in the mail marked "return to sender," I don't regret it. Although I'm still sad and I still miss you, my heart feels at peace now because I said what I needed to say. Since I sent it, I don't feel the guilt or the conflict inside myself. I just feel sad for you, that something is so broken inside you that you can be like this. I guess it's true that I always wished I could fix that broken part... but I'm learning to accept that I never had the tools to do that. No one does, except you. Nine months ago, when I watched you in your t-shirt, jeans and bare feet, washing dishes in my kitchen, I never imagined that we would be apart now, living separate lives in different states. I never would have imagined that would be one of the last times I saw you. I never would have imagined that, nine months later, I'd buy a house and be moving away myself. I've tried to take a lesson from all of that and remind myself that we need to appreciate each moment as we live it, because we never know when our lives will change and those moments will be lost forever and replaced with a new reality. For some reason, I remember making a conscious effort that day to look at you a little longer and to try to burn the moment into my mind, so I would never forget. Did I know then that we were nearing the end? I wish it had worked, but even that image of you is getting blurry now. As I said in the letter, I wish only the best for you. I hope you find happiness and peace, just as I hope the same for myself. No matter where my life takes me - and no matter how much the memories fade - I know that you'll always own a piece of my heart - the piece that is dedicated to one's first love - the piece that sends out unexpected pangs at little reminders. That piece will always be yours.

soybeans, so much of this I could have written myself. I'm happy that you feel like you're reaching a turning point. Stay strong.

I've been trying really hard to post less on eNA because it doesn't really help me. But today I've been going through things, packing to move, and I keep running accross reminders of you. It's a little maddening. There's the Schuyler Fisk tracks you bought for me off iTunes and burned to a CD. You wrote all of the titles on the CD sheet. It was weird seeing your handwriting after so long. In another box, I found an old birthday card from you. And then, I found the copy of the email you sent my sister, just four months into our relationship. You were asking for her advice because you felt like you weren't supporting me in the way I needed to be supported, and you were hoping she could provide guidance because you felt like you were making my life worse, instead of better. You also asked her to call me more often and check in because you knew I needed my sister, and you knew you weren't enough. -sigh- I remember the exact moment when you gave me that copy of that email. We were having a fight a few months after you sent it to her, and you blurted out, "I sought counsel!" I had no idea what you meant, but I knew you meant you had talked to my family, and I was furious. I yelled at you. I told you not to involve them. I stormed away. You printed the email and gave it to me and told me to read it, so I'd understand. I read it and felt awful because that email was you, trying to be better for me and reaching out humbly to a practical stranger for advice. It breaks my heart to read it now. I didn't even know I'd kept it until I found it in that box today. I started to cry. It's weird to be reminded of times when you used to try, and I often wonder when things changed - when you stopped caring and stopped trying. See, you'd think I'd know because I was in the relationship with you, but for all I know, you were still asking people for advice and still trying to be better, right up until the end. The reason I don't know is because you didn't talk to me about these things, you didn't brainstorm with me about how to be a better us. Four months in, and you were already at your wit's end. I wish I had been different. I wish you had been different. I wish so much had been different. But, most of all, I wish that I could hear from you again. Because I miss you so very much, even now, even 8 months later. I'm so sorry I wasn't an easier girlfriend. I'm so sorry we didn't work. I'm so sorry we didn't make it to forever.

I haven't counted the days in so long, but I was feeling masochistic today. 229 days NC on your end. 138 days NC on my end.

One of the hardest parts, as time passes by, is seeing more clearly what the problems in our relationship were and also seeing how they could've been fixed. I am really beginning to realize how hard it was to see the truth of our relationship when I was entrenched in it. But now? Now I see where I could've done things differently and where you could've done things differently. Like, you always talked about our lack of shared interests. We had some things in common and others I tried to cultivate an interest in, in order to bridge the gap. But now I see that some of those interests you had and wanted to share? Could've been shared with a friend. We both needed more friends. You would often bring up my lack of friends... but really you didn't have many either. I wish now that we could've gone off and done our own thing in order to enjoy those interests and then been happier when we were together. I wish so many things. I imagine it must be easier when two people just aren't compatible at a basic level. But we were. We had similar views on religion, politics, marriage, parenthood. Yes, we had differences too, but who doesn't and they certainly weren't insurmountable. But, at the end of the day, one fact remains: I tried and tried and tried, and you didn't. Not in the same way and to the same degree. I was more invested in our relationship. For you, perhaps it was just a way to pass the time. I don't know. I just wish things could've been different. I know we could've made this work. I know we could've been great.

Of all the sites I blocked in order to stop checking up on you, the one I miss the most is your flickr account. It was the site that gave me the least information because you never post personal pictures. You're never in any of the photos nor are they ever of anyone else in your life. They're just your beautiful photographs of objects and scenery. I always, always admired your talent and enjoyed seeing your photos so much. Recently, after you deactivated your FB, I was talking to my mom. Since you never unfriended her, she could still see the photos you posted. She said, "I admit I still like to look at his photographs though because they're so beautiful." They really are. My mom can't stand you now, but she can still appreciate your talent. I'm sad I can't allow myself to look at them anymore. I always felt like I could see your soul through your photos - that place inside you that you let almost no one see and that you hide behind ego and narcissism. It's there though, and I was sometimes lucky enough to catch glimpses of it in person during your "weaker" moments. Gosh, I loved you so much then - when I could really see you. But, after awhile, I could only see that person through the pictures you took. You are a talented photographer. I know you often didn't think so and credited your camera, but it was all you. I hope you keep taking them, and I hope someday I've moved on enough that I can unblock your site and view them again without heartache or pain but with just the simple appreciation one gives a wonderful piece of art captured by a stranger.

I deleted your number from my phone (not that I was using it anyway), and I blocked every website I was using to keep tabs on you in moments of weakness. I also removed the one way I could tell if you were keeping tabs on me. You may look for information on me now, but you won't find it, and I won't know you're looking for it. I can't find out anything about you anymore. It's done. That's it. I hope you and your new girlfriend are happy, although I doubt you've changed in the ways necessary to sustain a relationship. I'm sure she's a nice girl, so I also hope that, if you haven't changed, she picks up on who you are faster than I did. I wouldn't want another nice person to waste six years thinking they could make something work with you. Goodbye.

Yesterday, I learned something that made me proud of you for the first time in ages. Today, I realized something about that information, and it made me sick to my stomach. Somehow, you're not even around anymore, and you still manage to make me feel unimportant and unloved. I'm so tired of this. Finally, 7 months later, I truly wish I could just erase any and all memories of you. I'm done. I'm done. Go away. Get out of my f**king head and leave me alone.

Whenever you cross my mind lately, all I think is: "What an a**hole." It's not even really that I'm mad; it's that it's the truth.

I hadn't dreamt of you in quite awhile, but the dreams are coming fast & furious again now. One last night and one during my nap this afternoon. They've changed in content though. I think I must be trying to find a place where I forgive you. They're the first dreams I've had that actually address the breakup. In both of them, you contacted me in some way post-BU. As expected, I was receptive to talking. As expected, you were still... you. After the 1st, I woke up crying. After the 2nd, I just woke up missing you. I guess that's an improvement.

Also, during my ongoing househunt, my realtor told me about a house that is for sale. She said a guy owns it, and he's selling because he and his wife got divorced, and she moved out and bought her own house, but now they're back together and getting remarried, so he's moved in with her and is now selling his house. Obviously, I don't know more details than that. But there's another "getting back together" tale for the books.

link removed

As time passes - 6.5 months now - I have come to realize some things. I'm smart. I'm funny. I'm pretty. I'm sexy. I'm loving. I'm patient. I'm thoughtful. I'm articulate. I'm honest. I'm trustworthy. I'm hardworking. I'm generous. I'm compassionate. I'm insightful. I'm devoted. I'm kind. I'm cuddly. I'm sweet. I'm talented. I'm passionate (if you know what I mean, and I know you do). In fact, you know all of these things. Don't you? Yet you left. So you know what that makes you? Not. So. Bright.

Ok, I amend my previous statement. I don't think this is actually me missing you; this is me missing companionship. Big difference.

I've been doing so well - much better - but I woke up, and it's pouring rain, and suddenly I miss you. A-ha-ha! It's hilarious in its own tragic way actually. Oh well, I'll just ride the wave, I guess.

Today marks six months. I'm sure you don't even know. I've had this strange realization lately that, even though I'm sad sometimes, overall, I think I'm happier now than when I was with you. Not always when I was with you - there were amazing days - but so much of the time. Nothing seems as hard as it did then. Work doesn't seem as overwhelming. My family doesn't seem as frustrating. Life seems strangely easier. I think I didn't realize the burden I was carrying for so long, trying to keep our relationship alive, even though you had probably checked out a long time ago. Time goes by so quickly. Six months without you. I'm not sure I ever thought I'd make it this long. Turns out I'm stronger than I knew. I still miss you, especially today. I won't lie; I kept hoping the phone would ring or I'd get an email. Anything. Six months is a long time not to hear from the person you love. But I suspect it's just the beginning. I suspect I won't hear from you for a long, long time, if ever. I know it's one of your favorite times coming up - with lots of activities in your hometown, so I hope you have a wonderful rest of July.