His Name

Ed Sheeran guy has a name. His name is Ben.

Last night just didn’t go how I planned. But that was okay. I ended up going to 2 Dogs and drinking there. I was sober by the time I left at 1 AM. It was still a confusing night.

So, Ben comes in with his friend and coworker Juan. Juan’s a great guy, one of the regulars. He comes in a few nights a week. Sometimes gets really, really drunk. But he always takes a cab.

He didn’t take a cab last night. And he should have. And he didn’t take a cab after trying to hit on me first. Ugh.

We were outside smoking, but the three of us often just stayed out there talking and joking around. Ben was really cool and fun. He kept telling me to give my number to Juan so I could remind them of the concert I’m going to be in today.

That didn’t happen for a number of reasons.

I had my number written down for him and I was going to give it to him. But Juan tells me that he’s taken.

Not what I was expecting to hear.

Seeing as about a month ago, this guy bought me a drink at the bar. I mean, a lot can happen and change in a month, so I’m not trying to insinuate that it’s impossible for this guy to have gotten a girlfriend by now. As well as he was being very friendly.

I guess not overly so, though.

When Juan first told me he was taken, I was disappointed. This was going to be the first time for me to give my number to some guy I met at a bar. I was excited to do that. Then I find out he’s not available. Not like a crushing disappointment but obviously one to some extent.

At the same time, Juan hitting on me at the end of the night and being shitty by driving home when he really shouldn’t have been driving lead me to question Juan’s honesty. Was he just trying to keep me for himself?

I don’t want to think so. That’d be super weird and super shitty.

When I talked with my coworkers about it, they were skeptical too. They agreed that I shouldn’t have given Juan my number. Again, very happy I didn’t do that.

The next step is just to find out if he really does have a girlfriend. If he does, good for him. Hopefully it was just another guy who bought me that drink and we don’t remember it properly or the relationship is new or he was just trying to be friendly since I was a good server to them that night.

Okay, not that last one. I know that wasn’t the case. Pretty sure I messed something up with them.

I just hope I’m not the “other girl”. That’s not something I’m cool with nor will I ever be. At the same time, I don’t want to look into starting anything serious here in the next few weeks. I might be moving to California here and I’m not about to tie myself down to anything here that would be more permanent.

Even if he does have a girlfriend and nothing becomes of this other than a friendship, I’m still happy. I now know that I am starting to be ready again. While I know it will be difficult at first and I’ll probably have a few unsuccessful trial runs, just to try something again is thrilling.

For the first time the other night since Calvin, I was very excited that I was single. Most of the time, I’ve been sad and frustrated. Now, I see what kind of opportunities have opened. I love the freedom. I love the endless possibilities. I love the unpredictability of it all.

I’m okay with not knowing. In fact, I’m thrilled I don’t know what’s next. I’m almost 23 and have all the time in the world to figure things out. I’m just going to go where ever the world takes me. I don’t have to follow someone. I can do what I want where I want.

I think the timing with everything just barely worked out. I haven’t seen Ben at work in almost a month and now just when I’m starting to feel ready again he shows up. California comes right when I’ve accepted that the future I’d been planning for over 2 years had shattered. Things are wrapping up and I’m just getting started.


Standing in the Sand

It’s amazing how much changes in a month.

Yesterday was my one month anniversary of being single.

As I hung out with my friends Michael, Eric, and Carl, we discussed my conversation with Calvin earlier last week. They all asked me why I gave him the time of day.

The answer is obvious, and I don’t think they expected me to actually answer. Everyone says how weird Calvin is being about this situation. They tell me that he should find out about my important news via Facebook. I don’t really like that. I tried to tell them that I ended on somewhat good terms with him and they all laughed. It’s fair though, because we honestly didn’t end on good terms.

The way he broke up with me was so shitty that it eliminated the possibility of ending on good terms.

I don’t want to be on bad terms with him though. He was one of my best friends after all. I don’t want to give that up just because he was an idiot.

But maybe I should because that’s not a friend worth having.

Ugh, this all sucks so much.

I was going to go home this weekend too. I want to go home now to do laundry, but I’m waiting to hear back from a professor for a potential meeting. I’m just not in a very happy camp right now because I haven’t taken my Ativan yet.

So much has happened, yet not a lot. I feel like I’ve been standing in sand right where the water hits the shore. I have the illusion of movement, but it’s really the earth around me shifting. I guess it’s good that I feel anchored in my spot, but I just want a minute for the world to stop spinning.

I have very little time to accomplish a lot. Let’s hope that I can get it all done.

The Handle Over

I get into this slump sometimes where I believe everything good that has happened to me wasn’t real.

I am still not over Calvin. And I know I won’t be for some time.

Damn it, this sucks.

I question if he ever really did love me.

I talked to him the other day. He’s going to Austin, Texas for his next degree.

That put some of my concerns to rest. Not all.

He’s so much more active on social media now. Was I something that kept him from it? Does he even miss me?

I hate social media for this reason. I feel as though I can’t escape from it.

I tried the whole blocking and unfollowing thing. He got upset over that. I explained. I changed my mind because I thought I could handle it.

I can’t handle it.

I think this sudden burst in activity shows me how he felt in our relationship. He never wanted to share us. I was a safety net. I was always so proud of him, but was he ever so proud of me? Maybe at some point, but definitely not for a lot of it.

I was.

I’m not sure if I did anything wrong. Maybe I was just wrong for him. There’s a huge difference.

He wasn’t always right for me, but he was enough. Should I ever settle for what’s “enough”? What’s more than enough? Is that even a tangible thing?

I have booked my flight to go to California for a visit.

Calvin says he’s excited for me and that’s he’s always wanted me to go there. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what any of it means.

When we talked, I had so much I wanted to say to him. So much anger and hate and sadness and disappointment that I wanted to throw in his face. But I didn’t. I only had good words to say. When he called, I was about to go out for a hike. We talked for about an hour. He talked for about 45 minutes of it. Probably more. I talked at first about the internship, but I didn’t say much about it. Just where it was, the population, what’s next to figure out, and how I was still in shock over it. Part of that is my fault, though. His professor is on sabbatical and he’s had the opportunity to work with some of the greats in our field. He actually was a taxi for one of them and got to know him fairly well. I had to hear the full story on that.

Of course I did.

I don’t know why I did.

I mean, yes, he’s one of the greats. Why did I really care, though? As he kept talking, the more and more I asked myself this question. Did I actually care about the content or just how I could hear his smile? Did I care about their drive down from the airport as they struggled to find him food then took him to a bar in Bloomington or was I just interested in keeping him on the line? The longer we talked, the more I became uncomfortable.

I cut off the conversation after that hour because I needed to go think. I needed to be out in the world and away from this tiny apartment that holds so many memories.

I hate him so much in a lot of ways. Mostly, I hate that he makes me hate myself. Not really his fault, but also he’s entirely to blame.

I had been so happy. I was waking up without feeling like a ton of bricks was sitting on my chest. I was about to reduce the amount of times I went to therapy each week. Now, I’m back to counting down the days until I go back. I’m back to questioning if I should go to the hospital daily. I hate the effect this has had upon me.

I don’t like that he wants me to go to California. California is my place for myself. I know I have no ownership rights over the state especially since he was born there, but it solidifies that he doesn’t want me in his life anymore.

And I can’t handle that.

One Day

Some people say, “love isn’t always enough.”

I think that’s bullshit.

When you truly love someone, any amount of pain or heart ache or inconvenience becomes negligible. Things that may annoy you or cause you discomfort don’t bother you as much. You may recognize how undesirable may be, but that person and your love for that person make it all worth it without a second thought.

I think you did love me. There was a point where I could ask and you would have answered. I could have said and you would have sung. I could be horrible and you would be wonderful.

That was short-lived, though. It wouldn’t have been fair. I’m not sure if I was ever that horrible to you, but I’m sure you could think of something. No one is perfect. But sometimes our imperfections make us more perfect. If not more. More human. More real.

You weren’t horrible constantly, but you weren’t great either.

In fact, I can say that I’ve had better boyfriends.

Sean still tops the list of good boyfriends.

He was always kind to me. He gave me shit, but when it was well deserved. He always made me a priority. It was a selfish relationship because he was far too good to me. He was far too good for me. I wasn’t good for him, though.

I need someone compassionate, but screwed up as well. Someone who won’t hide from me. Someone who isn’t afraid of what I think. Someone who is kind but will call me out. Someone who enjoys being in and out of touch with reality. Someone who will accept me in all my nerd-ness and be goofy with me. Someone I will have fun with. Someone who will make me feel the range of emotions humans are supposed to feel.

I want to experience life and all it has to offer. And I don’t wish to do it alone.

I’m certainly not waiting for it to come.

I’m here and ready to take it.

So I’m still bothered by that stupid saying. When love is all you have, maybe it isn’t what you need. But when love is all you are, the statement is real and you are real. When you consume yourself in this, you create a bond that when severed can have catastrophic repercussions but will also give you the person of a lifetime.

My dad had that kind of bond with my mother.

My mother was abandoned unexpectedly by a man she was engaged to. She met my dad a year later and the rest is history. I know love was all my dad was when he was with my mom. I wonder if my mom felt the same. I think she did.

I can only hope that one day I’ll find that love too.

Selfishly Controlling

Some days can be very strange.

I felt better waking up this morning than I have in the past week. Calvin’s birthday had passed. I felt freer.

Of course, my computer died the night before. When it had rebooted itself and Skype opened, I saw a message from Calvin. It said “you douchebag”. I was confused, not having remembered already reading it a few weeks prior. I got offended and he quickly responded. He reminded me when he had sent it. He apologized for not having replied to my email about the budget. I said that I figured he wouldn’t have replied and that there wasn’t really much to say. I then quickly ran away from the conversation because fuck that.

I got some amazing news shortly after, though.

So, that California internship that I hadn’t heard from in over 2 months? They accepted me as their intern.

I’m so freaking excited!!

I cried as I called my dad, my friend Alex, Diego, Eric, and my sister. I was so happy. I could go somewhere.

I feel as though I have been graced with an opportunity.

California was a selfish choice. I wasn’t following anyone there. I was going based on my interests. My desires. I didn’t think anything serious would become of it though as I thought I’d be following Calvin.

Now, California is mine.

It’d be the perfect time. It’s only for 6 months, so if I hate being far from friends and family I can always go back. If I love it, I’ll have found it. I get to do what I want.

But then I have to figure out the logistics.

I’m honestly considering a GoFundMe page. I’ve never thought of doing that before. I want this though. I want this for me.

I hope I can make this work.

The internship would start on June 27th. Not a lot of time to figure things out. As well as buying a plane ticket to even go out there… not to mention when I would go. I don’t have much time and tickets are expensive.

Maybe I could take a train?

I don’t know. Definitely something I’ll look into. I just need cheap and my car can’t make that kind of drive. It’d probably cost more anyway.

What a whirlwind of a day. I’ve been high on this opportunity since I found out. California is mine. I have my own life. I can do what I want with it.

I finally feel in control again.


I sent a cold email that I did not expect to receive a reply from.

Turns out he owes me about $550. I owe his parents about $1,600 for the plane ticket to Hong Kong. That money will just go to them. I will send them the rest directly.

I still have to write my session plan.

My anxiety is sky high right now.

I haven’t taken anything for it yet. I don’t know why.

I’m supposed to go to a rehearsal today. In about an hour and a half or so. That will break me. Playing saxophone right now will break me. I don’t want to do it and I probably won’t.

Then, one of my coworkers had roped me into going to a wine tasting today. I do want to go, but today is also just not a good day. I need to be by myself and take care of things at home and I’m not sure how to tell her. I also have homework to do. I told her that if I get my homework done in time I would go, but she’s basically not taking no for an answer. I’m not sure how to handle the situation. I’ll call my dad and if he’s got nothing, then I’ll just be honest. If it was tomorrow, I would be so down. Today is just bad though.

If it was next week, I would be so down.

But today is weird.

And I think I need today to myself.

What Should Have Been

I know where I was supposed to be.

I was supposed to be there with you right now.

Tomorrow is your birthday.

I guess it’s convenient that I got my period.

I feel like such a piece of shit right now. I was a dumb ass at work last night. I won’t let that happen again. Never. Again.

I have a presentation I’m giving later today. That’s great. I’m not prepared for it yet.

I’m on the brink of a mental breakdown. I just need to get past tomorrow and I’ll be fine. I’ll be good. Just get through tomorrow.

I should write my session plan today because fuck if I’m going to be sober tomorrow.

I’m really feeling the whole self-loathing thing right now. I am a horrible piece of shit.

Some people have been telling me to buy myself a present with the money I would have spent on yours. I guess I sort of have been with how much I’ve been eating out this week.

I can’t erase the event of your birthday from my phone. It’s as if my mind won’t let you go, but I want to. Oh, I so want to.

I would have told you I loved you a thousand times by now. I still do.

Dennis says that it’s just like two of our friends Alexis and Jacky. It makes me angry that he said that though. We weren’t them. Our break up my have been somewhat similar, but we weren’t them.

I’m just so sad. I can’t function without Ativan in my system. I lost you and I didn’t even have to try. I should have been the one to leave with how shittily you treated me.

It should have been us. We could have done it.

I should have driven over Thursday night after my senior project class. I would have arrived by dinner time. We could have gone to one of our usual Bloomington favorites: Mother Bear’s, Upland, Esan, some place. Then, we would have gone back to your place, had some fun, then fall asleep in each other’s arms.

I would have told you I loved you a thousand times.

We would have woken the next morning. I may have done some homework. You may have had class. We could have hung out, watched movies, done so many things. I would have gotten my period still, but I wouldn’t let that deter me from giving you the best weekend ever.

I would have had some awesome gift for you. I would have done so much. I still want to do so much. But now, I want to do so much with a different flavor.

I want to break things you gave me. I want to destroy what ever reminds me of the life we almost had together. I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.

What sucks is knowing that you don’t feel the same way. You don’t hate me. You don’t feel anything for me. You don’t wake up feeling sad and crying every morning. You don’t have to take drugs just to make it through the day without breaking down. You aren’t hurting like I am.

Some people say it’s not over for us. Those are people who know the both of us. More people say that I can and will do better than you.

I’m reminded by some other people’s stories. I was told one last night of a friend of mine’s older sister. She moved in with this guy and then he treated her like shit. He ended up breaking up with her and she was devastated. She’s now engaged to a man that everyone likes more.

One friend of mine’s parents’ have an odd story. He broke up with her because he believed he wanted to be single for a while. 6 months later, he realized how stupid that was because he had been with the woman he wanted to be with and let her go. She took him back. They are happily married with 4 beautiful girls.

My sister made a choice a little over 2 years ago. She was engaged to a man that she thought was right for her, but she was in your shoes. She saw the issues and made a choice she was able to make – she didn’t want to work on the relationship. I have to remind myself that you made that same choice and it was a choice you were and are entitled to make. She’s now much happier with a man we all like so much more.

It could have gone either way. I keep telling people that I think it was for the best too because I want it to be that way. I want to make the best of this situation.

Eric and I keep talking to each other about this. He’s in a much better position to get back with his ex than I am I believe. Sarah (his ex) is studying abroad currently and she’s been acting weird according to her entire friends and family. While I think it’s shitty how badly she’s treated him, I don’t think their getting back together would really shock anyone. He fought her until the end. I shut down.

I’m going to do the budget now because I can’t think of much else to say on this.


Now, you get to see proof of my claim of days that start bad then end good thing.

This is also one of my rants under the influence.

I grew up in a home where no one really drank noticeably. My dad usually had a beer with a meal, but stopped doing that once I was an adolescent because it gave him migraines. My mom never really drank when I was young and my stepmom can barely tolerate the taste of any alcohol. I can’t say I really minded. If anything, it’s given me a wonderful world to explore.

My dad gave my sister and I that freedom to explore. He made it very clear when we were growing up, that doing things we shouldn’t do could get us in trouble. If we got in trouble, we had to be able to get ourselves out of trouble. We had to take full responsibility for our actions. Our friends never really drank or did drugs. We were the weird kids in a small, private, Catholic high school. We were the honor roll kids. We were the music nerds that participated in all the arts. We were smart and knew how to take care of ourselves. That was only partially true.

But we came from parents that bonded over a joint. A mother who enjoyed her beer especially while watching baseball. A father whose every home improvement project was fueled by weed.

We didn’t do things in high school because we had been told at a young age that doing those things is bad when you’re young. I think that we knew we weren’t smart enough to do it and not get caught and the consequences of getting caught were more hassle than just not doing it. We didn’t know how to go about procuring such things that were so illegal for our age or in general nor did we care to know. We had our friends, our books, our movies, our music, and other things to rely on for entertainment. Nothing really needed to be added to the mix to enhance things.

When we came to college, we were new to these experiences. I personally had a wonderful experience with drinking and smoking. I had people I trusted to be around when I was under the influence. Friends I trusted. I knew that people would take care of me if need be. I also (usually) knew my limits enough to not over-do it too much. Although, there definitely were occasions that I did over-do it. But I always had people I trusted that took care of me. I was never pressured into it. I was welcomed to it when I was ready. It was a social thing – something I so desperately needed in my new environment. I was always offered things, but never felt degraded for declining. People in my life were genuine and didn’t care enough about your “faults”. You were their friend and as such you were respected.

I joined a society in doing such. I did not offer that same gift to you. I think it would have been beneficial.

I believe that everyone should experience the sensation of being intoxicated and/or high at some point in their lives unless it breaks a serious moral code for them. I mostly believe this because I think we should try to experience all life has to offer us naturally. Alcohol may not be all that natural, but I believe the bud is a beautiful thing of nature. Some of my best memories with the people I love involved occasions when we drank together while playing games. I was often most kind to myself in these moments. I could see how my green eyes really were beautiful. I could see how my smile lightened my whole face. I learned to accept my body little by little. I wasn’t tortured by my usual consciousness. I simply saw me for me and that me is beautiful. But in my foolish and clouded judgment, I judged you for not feeling the same. I pressured you into something you were not ready to do. I realize that now, reflecting on our relationship.

I honestly had no idea how incredibly low your emotional IQ and how dumb I was until we broke up.

The cowardice of the break-up like waiting until it was 7:00 in the morning and I was completely ready to leave. Giving half-assed excuses of not wanting to work on something that was completely fixable. His poor communication skills. Looking back, a lot of the things feel like things I dealt with in boys in high school. And how he would become completely aggressively defensive¬†when I would mention something that had been bothering me. I had been consistently told that he would never be able to communicate to the level I could. People blame him for that. I’m not sure. I think it’s more of a personal/partially cultural thing. We see that as prideful and immature.

I don’t know what I honestly think. I’m angry and I’m sad and I don’t care because I am actually happy. I’m happy that I have the life I have here and that I know I am moving on.

I’m excited for what’s coming. There’s only something better waiting for me to come.


I hate you and miss you at the same time.

I had a dream this morning. It was sometime in the future I suppose. We were talking of how every girl you dated since me, you’d find something wrong with them. You would always come back to me. And I said that I would always love you.

I woke up sad, angry, disgusted, frustrated, and everything else under the sun on this cloudy and rainy day. I’ve been trying to distract myself since I woke up with very little success. The dream keeps replaying in my head.

You still don’t know my address even though I’ve been living here for the last 2 years. My phone was in my car during my class when you texted me. I wouldn’t have responded until after class anyway. You forgot my apartment number. I’ll have to go to the post office soon to get it as they won’t drop it off without an apartment number. You still say “crab” instead of “crap”.

I wake up feeling like I do when I’m going through a depressive episode. It takes every ounce of my being to get up in the morning. Of course, I have so much to do that I can’t be staying in bed all day feeling sorry for myself.

My friend Eric reminds me how independent I am. He says that it will get easier. He’s in the same boat as I am, having been dumped over spring break by the girl he thought he was going to marry.

I miss talking to you most of all. I miss hearing your voice, your laugh, your smile. I miss how goofy we could be together. I miss how much fun we would have.

You said that you felt a sense of relief. I wonder if you miss me like I miss you. It sucks being on this end of things. On one hand, I’m so mad at you the thought of talking to you makes me shake. On the other hand, I don’t care because part of me still loves you. That part makes me angry with myself.

Some people remind me that I am the owner of my happiness. In this situation, I can see how that is true. I can choose if I want to talk to you. I can choose to distance myself from you. I can choose to move on. I can choose to drag this out in my head as long as I want to. I can do a lot of things to make myself happy and a lot of things to make me unhappy.

I can’t change your mind and I’m not sure I want to. But I do want you to know how much damage you’ve caused. You realize the next man to tell me he wants to marry me I’m going to run for the hills, right? Hell, the next person to tell me they want to be with me I’m going to question them intensely. The number of anxiety attacks I’ve had over the last few weeks. The number of lies I have told people so they’ll stop questioning my sanity. How many times have I contemplated self harm and even suicide over the last 3 weeks? The man I wanted for the rest of my life doesn’t want me anymore. You tell me how that feels. Especially someone who was so sure only 5 months ago – how does that go away so fast?

I lost my best friend. I lost the person I’d talk to all the time. I lost so much by a one-sided conversation that shouldn’t have happened like it did.

I need to stop thinking about this and distract myself with other things. I have to be ready for work in an hour and I have homework I need to do before then.

I’m tired of this and I hope you are too. I hope you’re feeling at least a fraction of the pain I feel. I hope you’re feeling something. I hope you’re letting yourself feel something. I hope I’m not going through this alone.