It’s official. I hate February.
I hate everything about it. The red and pink colors, the idea that everything has to be love themed, the weather is cold, the winter blues are hitting, and oh yeah. One more small thing…it’s the only month that makes you highly aware of your relationship status. Mine was teetering there for a while. Was I officially taken or was I still in the sort-of-friends zone?
Well, I got my answer last night.
Single. Single. And, in case the first couple times it wasn’t quite clear… single.
Have I mentioned that the dreaded V-day would have been my 2-year anniversary with my exboyfriend, too?
Add on top of the relationship woes, I go under the knife in just over a week.
Happy oh-so-happy Valentine’s Day to me, myself, and I.
I’m pitying myself. I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’m letting myself think the terrible, horrible, I’m-never-going-to-find-someone thoughts. The chance is there, though. What if I don’t ever find someone? What if I’m meant to be that single woman who never quite got it right with relationships? It makes it really hard to be the awesome Maid of Honor when I can’t stand the thought of eternal love.
“Anxiety is love’s greatest killer. It makes one feel as you might when a drowning man holds onto you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.”
Wise words of Anais Nin, a navel-gazer.
The panic hit last night. Without a warning, I laid in bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars decorating my ceiling, and the tears just came. What am I doing wrong? These things always start out great, and then something snaps in the matter of days. Suddenly, things must come to an end. Something is off, we’re in two different places in our lives, or “I need some time to figure me out. I’m not okay with myself.”
If I ever date someone again, and then use that excuse as the reason for why the relationship much come to an end, I’m seriously giving up guys entirely. Fix yourself before giving someone the impression you want to be more to them than just a friend. Guys don’t enjoy being lead on, and neither do girls.
Treat others as you want to be treated. It’s the Golden Rule, people!
Mostly, I’m just upset. Why must these things pop up out of the blue? Why must they all happen over the phone? I’m beginning to hate my cell phone as much as I’m disliking men.
The reason New Guy and I needed to end things, according to him? “Valentine’s Day is coming up, and you should make it a special occasion with that person you’re dating. I’ve never had a valentine when the day has come around, and I’m not okay with where I am right now. We should probably not date anymore.”
That’s the basic gist of it, anyway.
Yeah, I know rejection is a part of dating. Another reason to hate dating, and now another reason to hate Valentine’s Day. A potentially great relationship was cut short because the holiday loomed too near.
All of this, I’m sure, means I simply haven’t found “the one” for me just yet. He’s still strutting around out there, waiting to run into me. I might not meet him until I’m 45. Should I join a dating site to see what potential material there is for me out there? Clearly, this city is just not having it with my love life.
See? See this rambling? It’s anxiety. Love does nothing to us but make us crazy. How my parents have survived it for 38 years is beyond me. But they’re also the reason I don’t give up hope on finding that someone. They are so incredibly in love…still! after 38 years…and it makes me happy inside to see that. Too many couples end in divorce, and it’s uplifting to know there are actual couples out there who do, indeed, love the other through the good times and bad.
I could be biased since they are my parents.
Hollywood movies don’t help matters, either. Right now, my current Valentine’s Day plans consist of getting nasty, fattening food and ice cream, popping Sabrina into the DVD player, and sobbing my eyes out over my godforsaken misery. I’ll ignore the roses that are guaranteed to be sitting on our kitchen table, a gift from my sister’s fiancée to her. I’ll smile and nod as she tells me about her romantic evening, and secretly be telling my heart to stop sinking into my stomach. As I shove chocolates into my pathetic mouth, I’ll be reliving a year ago, when I actually had a Valentine….before he ripped my heart out and stomped all over it.
See what I mean? Valentine’s Day is not healthy. It drives single women crazy. If they are anything like me, and trying to move on from any sort of relationship, it only gets worse from here on out. Even sadder? All my awesome girlfriends either have boyfriends of their own, and will be swept off their feet, or they don’t live anywhere near me.
So much misery…
Put in simple terms, I’m in a funk. I’m moping. When I’ll get out of it, I don’t really know. I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again: Maybe it’s best to be on my own right now. Too many changes are headed my way within the next four months. Probably best to not have someone elses feelings to take into consideration if, say, I want to move to Florida for a year.
Anakin and Padme attempted a loving, intimate relationship, and the anxiety of losing Padme drove Anakin not only insane, but to the Dark Side. We know what happens the instant he turns to the Dark Side. The Jedi are almost completely wiped out, the galaxy is thrown into a dictatorship, and everyone hates George Lucas. I don’t hate him, but I’m singled out for that very reason half the time. Anyways…
It’s not going to be an easy couple of months. I tend to fall victim to winter depression this time of the year, and this so-called spring we’re getting right now will only help matters momentarily. I’m certain a blast of hellfire snow is headed our way at some point, and all this glorious weather keeping my mood afloat will disappear into a snow bank. I’m in for a bumpy ride over the next stretch of time.
On a completely different note, go see Man on a Ledge. I was almost hyperventilating by the time I got to the center of the movie. I don’t care what the critics say, I thought it was a pretty dang good movie. I cheered at parts, I gasped at parts, and towards the end I had a very big “Oh my…WHAT?” moment. It doesn’t hurt that Sam Worthington is plain gorgeous to look at, even with his slightly mess mop of a hair-do in this movie. I found him very likeable in Avatar, and I continue to find him likeable. Don’t you dare judge me, I’m moping.
Things will get better, things will look up. I have to keep telling myself this, or I will fall into a heap on the floor. I need to find my inner strength again. I used it always have it at my fingertips, but now? It’s fleeting. A touch here at the club, a touch there at the coffee shop. I’m better off alone, anyways.
Everyone keeps telling me I’m too much to handle.