I normally don’t like to blog about feeling discouraged and vulnerable. Those are things that I try to deal with as quietly as possible. People have a way of (unintentionally) being cruel with their advice when what I need is just for someone to listen. Perhaps it’s just human nature to kick a person when they’re down or maybe we just don’t know how to ask for what we need. I figured out what I needed this weekend, and it turned out to be quiet time alone to process what has happened over the past few weeks and months. Many people who have known me strictly as an adult (or even from later teenage years) think of me as someone strong, who rarely becomes emotional. When I do, it’s usually anger that burns itself out quickly and is replaced by determined calm. This time is a little different.
The absolutely best way to stay emotionally stable and calm in just about every situation is to remove your attachment to any particular outcome. If you don’t have your heart set on a goal, whatever happens is fine. You can take the good times with the bad without batting an eyelash. It doesn’t really affect how happy you are. You, no matter what happens, remain the same. It’s best to start with the little things: commute traffic, weighing yourself at the gym, a recipe you’re making for the first time. If I’m a few minutes late to work, it’s no big deal. I didn’t expect the traffic to be light or heavy so either way is fine. I’ll just stay a few minutes later, and it won’t bother me because I am not attached to the 5PM quitting time. That’s an easy one. The more time, energy or emotion you invest in something, the more attached you become to it. I really tried to detach myself from the outcome of this past relationship. The more I thought I was succeeding, the more aloof I became. Instead of detaching myself from the outcome, I was actually detaching myself from the other person. That was far easier, and extremely cold. ‘If I knew then what I know now’, everybody says.
The anger has diminished and I have this time to just sit and dissect the past 9 months (was it that long?). I find fault in my own actions. The really big mistake of moving in together too early was one that I made fully aware. I knew the risks outweighed the advantages, but I did it anyway. Against my own better judgment, I leapt. At this point, I’m not sure if I regret it or not. In fact, I don’t really see any particular benefit in having regret, and I like to avoid it as much as possible. I just know that this place sure is lonely without KB here. I know that ending it was the right thing to do; I just wish it hadn’t ended as hastily and awkwardly as it did. I’d like us to remain friends, but I haven’t stopped seeing him in that same romantic light that led me into this fiasco in the first place. I still want to hold hands walking down the street, laugh at the jokes in our heads that we didn’t need to say out loud, cuddle until the sheets warm up and have tickle wars on the couch. I’m not ready to be just friends…but this is what needs to happen. The mistake cannot be undone. It’s my fault. I should feel this way. It is justice. The only thing to do is accept it gracefully.
Tomorrow, I’ll go back to work and no one will speak of this. That is just fine with me. Why would they need to know any of these things anyway? How will heartache help me in my career? Since when did admitting vulnerability ever help anyone in this world? So this time may be a bit different, but I’ll never tell.
