I am convinced I am either not normal or that at some point I am going to fall apart and need to see my therapist. Why? Because I am happier than I have been in nearly 2 years.
I just broke up with my long term boyfriend 2 weeks ago today and I am on cloud 9. Giddy with freedom. Feeling so sexy and desirable. Feeling independent. Wise. Adventurous. And then I’m like..hold up…you only mourned for a week…
How is this normal! 3 years together and all I can feel after the first week of sadness is pure elation at getting out of the horrible, dark rut that was my relationship. And even in that first week I only cried 3 times. Granted they were pretty heart wrenching sob sessions. And I think the turning point for me was when he wasn’t man enough to let me come fetch my stuff (as HE had requested I do another day instead of on the day of the breakup) so suddenly his family is involved and messaging me and my brother must meet his brother and swap our belongings and I am not allowed near the house. And they are just protecting him. and THEY have all discussed it and think it would be best to follow the path of least resistance (I kid you fucking not…’the path of least resistance’ was used). I mean really?? At our age he cannot even deal with his own breakup?! HAHAHAHAHA…emotional immaturity and refusal to face life are exactly why I ended it. I actually should thank him because that was the turning point where I said, “Wow, well that just proves he won’t change and I am SO glad I don’t have to put up with a child any more!…OMG I’m free!!”
I am loving going out, seeing people, adventuring. I’ve done more in these last 2 weeks than I did in the last year with my ex partner. All he wanted to do was lie around and watch series or go to yet another blasted barbecue filled with other couples…yawn. And yet he was the one who constantly voiced how much he didn’t want to get married or live that ‘settled couples’ lifestyle. And yet there we were whilst I was yearning to explore life. You know that in 3 years he never once took me on a proper romantic date…not once. This last week a guy I have known since school invited me to the movies. It took me a day to actually agree as I was scared of the fact that I was so ready to go out with another guy (there has definitely been a slight attraction there) but when I agreed: within minutes he had booked the tickets, he drove through to pick me up that night, he paid for food and he shared his chocolate with me in the movies. Earlier on I had sent him this link for a meteor shower that would be taking place on the same night and so after the movies we drove to the top of this mountain pass and stared at the stars, talking about everything and anything. And yes…he kissed me. I kind of suspected it might happen but what surprised me was how much I enjoyed kissing him and how all I could think was, “wow, I’d forgotten what it was like to kiss a good kisser.” Anyway, the night was a little bit like a movie scene and I was blown away by the vast difference between being taken out by a man and the boy I had been dating for years. It just cemented my decision all over again. There are men out there. My ex was not as good as it gets. I guess I always thought that because before him I’d been severely depressed and dated addicts and abusers. But it seems like for me it is just onward and upward. I’ve never been one to turn away from self growth. And I never do the self growth thing slowly…which may explain why I feel so okay after such a short time. I had a total meltdown last weekend and after that I felt…great. And I haven’t cried since. I just keep thinking how lucky I am to be out of it. And I’m pretty sure he is too. How did we not realize how miserable we were?!
So now the thing is, rebound sex. Yes I slept with the guy who took me to the movies. I invited him over the next night, clearly stating that I was looking for some rebound fun and oh what fun it was. I felt so comfortable and we chatted for HOURS again. But now there was this guy that I connected with last year when I was still with my ex. Alarm bells should’ve gone off then because connecting like I did with this guy would not have happened had I truly been happy in my relationship. But being the loyal person I am, I cut contact as soon as I realized we were treading dangerous ground. So last night I bump into him and he kisses me…and I let him because I had been curious about it for a loooong time. But it felt kind of…wrong. And against my better judgement I let him come home with me. And then all kinds of awkward followed. I’m literally cringing in front of my laptop right now.
Firstly: seriously…how slutty was that move.
secondly: how slutty was that move!!!
Argh and it was not great either. Awkward awkward awkward. I actually just felt worse and ended up getting him to leave as he wanted to then sleep over (oi vey). Problem is my best friend also kind of likes this guy but because I had feelings for him he was kind of out of bounds. He’s the guy she kissed not so long ago whom I totally freaked out over (I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the blog post). Anyway. I am eaten by guilt. But I am thinking I need to chalk this one up to a learning curve. Also…I would really rather not do it again. I kept thinking about how comfortable I felt with movie-guy and what a gentleman he is…in comparison last night made me see this other guy in a new light. He is arrogant and talks too much and actually irritated me a bit. He’s a good friend and we have awesome chats about science and stuff, but I really really do not want to relive last night. WHY did I not listen to my gut instinct when it told me no? Because I always have to put my foot in it to learn.
Ok this post is really long now and even I am tired of it. I also have to go out in about 30 minutes after about 3 hours of sleep…again. This little drama is ‘to be continued….’