Wednesday, May 16, 2012

looking backwards when I want to go forward

So I had Thursday, Friday and Monday off for my trip back home to visit the family and friends.  It was an excellent trip.  I packed lots of fun in there, and managed to see everyone.  I came back to DC monday morning and was looking forward to a lackadaiscal afternoon at home.  Instead, I got smacked across the face with a god-awful, mind-crushing migraine.  It persevered through most of Tuesday, too.  Cheers?

I returned to work today expecting a mountain of work at the ready, but I found a molehill instead.  It ended up being surprisingly slow, so I found my mind wandering a bit this afternoon over lunch.  I spent my break eating my meal and indulging in the misguided task of reading old Livejournal entries from a couple of years ago.  Sigh.

Why do I do these things to myself?  I spent a chunk of time reading from the honeymoon period of my relationship with the most recent ex.  I gushed. I raved.  I swooned.  I documented all the sweet things he'd said to me, many of which I'd forgotten entirely.  I relived the intense highs through those journal entries, wondering where we'd gone wrong.  Then, sneakily, private posts started creeping into that LJ path of happiness.  Vents.  Frustrations.  Concerns.  I posted them mostly to myself, and then the next day I'd write some soppy, lovey post about the other cute thing he'd said, or the nice thing he'd done, or the cutesy, couply bullshit we indulged in all the time, apparently.

Perspective is weird.  Knowing where it all ended up is weird.  Knowing how much hurt was to come, knowing how much those happy moments and sweet declarations just didn't really matter in the end.  I read the entries with a deflated, sick sense in my stomach.  I doubted my feelings as I read them....had I really ever felt that happy with him?  Or had I been tricking myself?  That's an answer I don't have.

Once we were happy, and I had hope, and we had plans and we expected to be together.  I thought I would marry him.  And then it all went to hell, and now we don't even talk.  He has moved on, and I am here, having...moved on?  I guess.  Not with someone, but in general, I suppose. 

I am feeling off today.  Must find a way to recalibrate. 


  1. I often wonder if the things I do now with my current boyfriend, all our special trips and moments, if that will all just be "those things I did with what's his face" years from now. Because that's how everything else has gone. It's scary and it's sad when things end - especially when you thought you were happy and that they would never end. But would you still want to be with those people knowing what you know now? I know the feeling of thinking you will always love them and that this time it will be different, and then it's not. I really hope this time it's different for me and I really hope the next time is different for you. Also, even though he's "moved on," everything always looks good from far away. I don't think moving on necessarily means dating someone new as much as being in a good place with yourself. A lot of people think they've "moved on" because they're dating someone else and then the same issues arise. To me, that's not moving on (if that makes sense).

  2. To answer your question, no I would not want to be with the person I was reminiscing about yesterday. We had good times, it wasn't all bad, but the overruling theme is that he had too many issues to sort out, and he took them out on me because I was the only one he let in close enough. Not fair.

    I also don't envy his new relationship b/c I know that beyond the happy go lucky pictures, he has still been trying to hook up with me and had previously expressed great unhappiness.

    He is still the same broken person, and will be until he takes some time on his own to get things in order...I guess like I'm trying to do!