So I've hit 24 hours and even a good old fashioned drunk isn't taking the edge off. So those of you who thought bourbon could cure all ills, you were wrong. It just makes you have to pee every 15 minutes.
I have never been one for drama and excess, so I used to view with skepticism folks who couldn't get themselves out of bed following a traumatic episode. Karma just kicked me in the ass with a steel-toed boot.
I was married once. Didn't know if you knew that. It was a bad decision that I reacted to by having an affair with a married law school classmate who would show up to my apartment in the pouring rain and tell me that he would love me forever. You can see where this is going. A few days after his divorce was final (my 27th birthday, to be exact), he informed me that that he really didn't feel the same way anymore. I didn't talk to him again for three years. It took me two years of therapy, countless bottles of lexapro and a big leap of faith before I was able to trust anything that came out of a lover's mouth.
On that particular night I fell asleep, got up the next day and went to bar review. I think my system was already so worn down by the drama and intrigue of cheating that it could absorb the trauma. We learned about Article 3 of the UCC that morning.
I didn't fall asleep last night, despite a heavy dosing of painkillers. It was the shock. I usually have a questionable memory, but the last four months played over in my head repeatedly and as if yesterday was as clear as the day we met.
Yes, I did spend the entire day in bed, watching bad TV without really paying attention and lollying about in a benadryl stupor that finally culminated in three blissful hours of sleep in the early afternoon. All while my semi-retarded siamese cat alternated between neurotically nuzzling my feet and checking the food bowl. The cats are as traumatized as I am.
I though long and hard today about why I needed to make the post last night and why I need to make the post now. It was Emily, good old Emily, that finally helped me understand.
This isn't a break-up. Rather, its a dumping. Want to know the difference? A break-up is when two people sit down, figure out what is wrong with their relationship and decide that things would be better if the relationship ended.
A dumping, on the other hand, is when one person decides unilaterally that the relationship is over, imposes that mandate and walks out the door without any disucusssion, explanation or apology.
I don't think I would need to write all of this down if I had had any meaningful voice as to the way our relationship ended as it actually ended. I did not. So now the only means I have to get what I am feeling out of my system is to write it all down...in this blog, in correspondence with my girlfriends and in three yet-unanswered (and admittedly emotional and angry) emails to the only person that can give me answers.
Because "I don't know" isn't really an answer. Its a cop-out used by people afraid to look at hard truths. You know how I know this? Because once upon I time I was the asshole who said that I didn't know, when deep down I knew exactly what was going on.
I got my sorry ass out of the house for drinks this evening and hope that the evening has its intended effect....sleep.
I was married once. Didn't know if you knew that. It was a bad decision that I reacted to by having an affair with a married law school classmate who would show up to my apartment in the pouring rain and tell me that he would love me forever. You can see where this is going. A few days after his divorce was final (my 27th birthday, to be exact), he informed me that that he really didn't feel the same way anymore. I didn't talk to him again for three years. It took me two years of therapy, countless bottles of lexapro and a big leap of faith before I was able to trust anything that came out of a lover's mouth.
On that particular night I fell asleep, got up the next day and went to bar review. I think my system was already so worn down by the drama and intrigue of cheating that it could absorb the trauma. We learned about Article 3 of the UCC that morning.
I didn't fall asleep last night, despite a heavy dosing of painkillers. It was the shock. I usually have a questionable memory, but the last four months played over in my head repeatedly and as if yesterday was as clear as the day we met.
Yes, I did spend the entire day in bed, watching bad TV without really paying attention and lollying about in a benadryl stupor that finally culminated in three blissful hours of sleep in the early afternoon. All while my semi-retarded siamese cat alternated between neurotically nuzzling my feet and checking the food bowl. The cats are as traumatized as I am.
I though long and hard today about why I needed to make the post last night and why I need to make the post now. It was Emily, good old Emily, that finally helped me understand.
This isn't a break-up. Rather, its a dumping. Want to know the difference? A break-up is when two people sit down, figure out what is wrong with their relationship and decide that things would be better if the relationship ended.
A dumping, on the other hand, is when one person decides unilaterally that the relationship is over, imposes that mandate and walks out the door without any disucusssion, explanation or apology.
I don't think I would need to write all of this down if I had had any meaningful voice as to the way our relationship ended as it actually ended. I did not. So now the only means I have to get what I am feeling out of my system is to write it all down...in this blog, in correspondence with my girlfriends and in three yet-unanswered (and admittedly emotional and angry) emails to the only person that can give me answers.
Because "I don't know" isn't really an answer. Its a cop-out used by people afraid to look at hard truths. You know how I know this? Because once upon I time I was the asshole who said that I didn't know, when deep down I knew exactly what was going on.
I got my sorry ass out of the house for drinks this evening and hope that the evening has its intended effect....sleep.
4 comments:
hey, hope you're doing ok...I have been thinking about you although I haven't really said much... I never know what to say except "that sucks" which doesn't really encapsulate much, considering you could say "that sucks" to having a bad hair day or getting a flat tire.
Sooo.. that MAJORLY sucks. :) Are you coming out to USGP? I have a work party at the Edgefield on Friday night, so I won't be there on Saturday, but I will be watching on Sunday. I'd also be up for something on Saturday night (dancing?) to help you drown your sorrows.
You know, I'm really not OK at all. But the one thing that is making me feel better is to admit that I'm not OK and not pretending that I am OK.
I'm signed up both days at USGP. Probably will ride the SS. Which means I probably need to HTFU and go work out today.
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