It’s easy to confuse being grateful with being in love

That quote is from my all time favorite book, “You Remind Me of You” by Eireann Corrigan. Whenever I have a question about why I’m doing something, that always pops in my head.

It’s also easy to confuse being comfortable with being in love.

It’s also easy to confuse being nostalgic with being in love.

When someone returns to my life that I feel I didn’t get the right amount of closure on (or when I feel that it just wasn’t over), I seem to forget the bad times and just remember the good. I forget the 6 months it took me to get over him. I forgot how often we argued (once a day). I forgot that he would purposely push my buttons to try and get me to crack, like it was humorous.

Love stories also glamorize the idea that if someone returns to your life after leaving it, it’s “meant to be.” What that fairytale fails to mention is that that door they strolled through should have been dead bolted, double locked, and sealed with concrete. Instead, we decide that it’s a sign (which it is- a sign that they don’t have boundaries, can bend your feelings to suit them, and have little respect for you) that we should try again with thoughts of rainbows and puppies and marriage in our heads.

And then I act surprised when he plays with my feelings to bait me, and then stomps on them again. And I’m shocked when he can’t make time to see me because he’s too “busy.” And I’m floored when he  tells me he’s just not sure he’d want to get back together (but hey, we can still sleep together, right?).

Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting different results. It’s time for me to get off the roller coaster ride.

This super cryptic/emo blog post is mostly for me. Or you. If you get what the hell I’m saying.

One of my favorite things to do is torture myself with “what ifs” and “maybes.”

Just kidding. I actually like sleep and not having anxiety.

Why is it that you can put someone out of your mind for an extended period of time and then all of a sudden, BOOM. There they are. In the forefront of your brain. On your Facebook/Twitter/Instagram feed. Taunting your big feelings. And you can’t shake them! You’re engrossed in a task at work and there’s a tiny voice in the back of your mind repeating their name. You’re laughing, and all of a sudden you’re taken over by a memory you’ve had with that person and it just changes your mood totally. 

I have recently ended a dating saga with this guy I thought was super cool, but am now realizing we are just way too different to mesh. When presented with that fact, he fucking ghosted. Poof, gone. Which is cool, and I’m glad that it happened after 3 dates rather than 30.

However, I guess with him out of my bubble, I am stuck with memories of a previous “relationship.” If that’s what you would call it. It’s more like an on again, off again, tit for tat, I am obsessed with you but I fucking hate you so much, let’s pretend we don’t know each other, I miss you so much, all out civil war. And it is so frustrating. And it hurts the feelings I like to pretend I don’t have. And it makes me emotionally unavailable for the guys who don’t want to fuck with my head. And it sucks you guys. It SUCKS.

I guess it’s partially my fault. I let this person back into my life when it took about a year to get him out of my heart in the first place. That was a long time ago. And I guess I was just hoping we had both grown up enough to quit playing games and be legitimate and act right. But that was not the case.

It started out awesome. I mean, seriously great. Like Cloud 9 type shit. And out of nowhere, it got ugly. Like call your best-friend-at-3-am-after-being-iced-out-for-no-reason-hysterical type ugly. I have no idea what happened. I still don’t. When asked, I got fed a crock of bullshit, which is nothing new. The fact that I don’t know what the fuck happened eats at me hard. 

I tried so hard to let the past be in the past, but it didn’t stay there. It reared it’s ugly head and put a giant lump in my throat I couldn’t swallow. So I shut down and decided to play games twice as seriously. I don’t deal well with hurt, so I fight back. Which doesn’t work for anyone, mostly me. And it didn’t. So I pushed it out of my head and focused on other things and pretended I couldn’t give a shit less.

But here I am. Caring. And wishing that if I was patient, he would grow the hell up and it would fix itself. 

Apparently that is not in the plan.