going, going, gone

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Last week I thought I heard the death rattle, and this week I poked it with a stick and, yep, it is indeed dead.  On Monday I decided that because I wasn’t going to get any closure from him, I needed to create it for myself.  Every time I signed on to my e-mail, 6 months of emails from him sat there, taunting me.  And every time I saw them, it made me sad.  The stupid electronic emails actually had the power to evoke emotion in me.  And that’s how it started.  I clicked, clicked, and clicked my way through six months of emails from him and to him, and then hit delete.  Even having them gone made me sad.  Then it was over to my online photo album, where all the photos he sent me were stored.  I opened it up, looked at the thumbnail sized photos, and clicked, ‘select all’.  Again, I hit delete.  And just like they were never there…..all the emails and photos were gone.

With the strength from my previous moves, I opened up my cell phone, and deleted his text messages.  Next I paused, unsure of whether to make the next step.  But I again moved forward, I deleted his phone number.  I really didnt want to, I’ll be honest.  But I knew that if I didn’t delete it, I would use it.  And I can’t have that. 

I’m proud of myself for doing it, and even prouder still for not reading any of the old emails or texts and looking at any of the photos.  It was swift and decisive (even if it didn’t feel like it) and when it was done, I really felt like “it” was finished.

It was just so volcanic. things were excalating just fine, and the poof! all of the sudden it was gone.  I spent a little time wondering what I did, what I said, what changed.  But since there will never be any answers to those questions; I’ve stopped asking them.

So for my own peace of mind, I’ve put this into a box in my mind and labeled it ‘fun while it lasted’.  And it was.  It was fun….while it lasted.


the death rattle

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I rely on my intuition.  And my intuition is telling me that it’s over.  I don’t know if I scared him away by my admissions or simply — disinterest set in, or boredom or the newness wore off.  But it sucks.  I know it’s corny to say, but I believe that everything of note happens for a reason.  I haven’t worked out what his purpose in my life was but I have an inkling.  The main idea that sticks out for me is that he was so insistent in living life to the fullest.  That he only had one shot at this life and he was going to take full advantage.  It’s slightly inspiring to me.  At the very least, his presence in my life allowed me to see myself in a different way; a good thing.  I’m just really bummed that it’s over.  I had counted him as a friend and now that friendship is gone.  Granted, I guess there is the chance that ‘it’s not over’ — but my intuition is telling me otherwise.

I emailed him last week, very light, fluffy, benign — and have decided that this last correspondance is it for me.  If he emails me back, then great.  If not…..then….c’est ca.  That’s it.

And so I am hearing the death rattle.  The demise came a lot quicker than I thought.  I dont think that I read the signs incorrectly or even that I played my cards incorrectly.  It just is what it is, was what it was. 

It simply comes to this; that it sucks and I wish I could just forget about him, not have him cross my mind.  That I’d just be able to close this chapter in my life and move on.

I’m a scaredy cat but an honest one at that

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I’ve realized that I’m scared.  Or afraid.  Or fearful.  Or all the above, or some combination of those emotions.  This whole ‘change my life’ thing has essentially done this [here comes a metaphor] – it has taken my life, dug it up from the roots and is attempting to re-plant it in soil with a different pH.  the problem with this is letting my roots [read = insecurities] hit the light of day is making me realize that i have these fears that need to be addressed.  They were never addressed before because they were buried, deep, deep down.  But now that I’ve changed everything, I simply cannot go back. 

Firstly, and most vainly, I’m afraid that I’m not going to be cute.  I think I’m cute now, but what if I’m not cute later?  What if my bone structure works well with extra padding and once you take it away, I’m all disproportionate?  I remember reading this ‘inspiration story’ of this girl who had lost 150 pounds and how happy she was, how much more social she was, etc, etc.  But the reason this sticks out to me is because of her before and after photos.  In the before photo, she was reasonably cute, overweight, but cute.  And her after photo was not.  Her cheekbones were too big for her face and gave her this caveman-esque look.  I remember her distinctly, and am distinctly afraid that I am not going to be cute.

Secondly, I am afraid that the reason I’m single is not because of my previous belief – which is that while I’m one ‘cool chick’ to the guys, who always want to be friends and never the BF, it’s not because I was overweight, but because men just aren’t attracted to me. I know that’s a blanket statement, but it really does feel that way.  And of course, this fear ties into fear #1, the fact that I may just think I’m cute, but that that’s not necessarily true to other people.

Thirdly, I am afraid that this isn’t going to work for me.  When I see the numbers stop going down and stay stagnant for a day or two, I freak out a little bit.  Because if this doesn’t work, I don’t know what I’m going to do.

Fourthly, I’m afraid that in addition to the numbers not going down that they’re going to go back up.  I guess this is the partially the same fear as #3, this not working for me, but it’s this sort of desperate fear that makes it different.  I can’t go back there.  I cannot do it, I cannot live that way anymore.  And I know that 20 pounds isn’t that far from where I started, but I feel this desperation to shuck off that previous life. 

I’ve invested a lot to get to where I am, emotionally, physically and financially.  I don’t want to be “that girl” anymore. I don’t want to be the chubby friend anymore.  I feel like a cliche in a lot of ways.  The fat girl who’s funny, she’s cute but not pretty.  She’s non-threatening and never gets asked out, it’s easy to be friends with her.

I’m not saying that I want to abandon any of the good, quality things about being her, but I want more than that life can/could give me. I dont want to settle for going out with some guy because he deigns to be with the fat girl.  Just like anyone else, I want to be with attractive guys, the smart guys, the funny guys….not be with someone just because he wants me.

I have a huge fear of rejection, and that’s because it’s happened. A lot. And I’ve always chalked that up to the fact that I was overweight.  And I’m afraid that when you take that out of the equation, that nothing will change….and more than anything, that really, really scares me.