Anxiety. Anxious in the morning and near the end of the day, anxious again.
Holly Golightly would have described it as “the mean reds”.
“Listen…you know those days when you get the mean reds?” –Holly.
“The mean reds? You mean like the blues?” –Fred (Paul).
“No… the blues are because you’re getting fat or because it’s been raining too long. You’re just sad, that’s all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you’re afraid and you don’t know what you’re afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?” –Holly.
Yes, it was the mean reds but I also had a good idea of what I was afraid of. Being alone, never being loved again, and perhaps never getting over him. So, while I did spend half an hour crying on the floor of my friend’s office this morning, I feel like it ended up not too terribly. Granted, it’s 2:30 AM and I’m still awake but I don’t feel as anxious. Well, maybe a little tipsy. Nothing like some chocolate chocolate chip ice cream before bed and having the best girl friend to support you. Thank you, Holly.
Apparently, anxiety before bed is not uncommon in the city. We’re all so worried about the next day that we don’t get any sleep. And guess what, you can’t function that well when you don’t sleep. It’s counterproductive really. New York City is the city that never sleeps but that doesn’t mean that you can’t get some shut eye. We find peace in sleep, answers in our dream. I believe it leads us to our innermost thoughts.
So, good night moon, good night Cat, good night Holly.
Day 2 draws to an end. I guess I’ve still been in slight denial. I’m quite an optimistic person and it’s very easy for me to think that perhaps, we could still get back together in the future? Even though, that would be bad. It’d be bad for me!
So, step one, admitting that you have a problem.
Hi, my name is Mag and I am a serial dater and I am in love with someone who doesn’t love me.
Next on to step two. There is a greater power that will restore me to sanity.
Right now, it’s time.
I guess I’ll focus on step two for now. But in other news, I have a test run at the cupcake, wine and beer bar I’ve been wanting to work at for the longest time, next Sunday! I’m finally going to be able to bake! And for lots of people!
This is what I made this weekend:
Pumpkin Spice Bread
BEWARE. Although this recipe has so much promise, it calls for a cup of milk and it never firmed up! So, if you’re looking for a soggy quick bread… you can try this. But if I were you, I’d cut out the cup of milk. I may try this again without milk. I refuse to let one bad recipe ruin my desire for homemade pumpkin bread. Just like I refuse to let one boy ruin all of them for me.
Taking things one day at a time,
The trip to Morocco has been a bumpy one so far. And by that, I mean a complete train wreck. I foolishly thought that some alcohol and good friends would get me through the day so I agreed to go to Columbia’s Homecoming with a friend of mine… even though Ex-Boyfriend went to school there and would be at Homecoming as well. After some vodka at 9:30 AM, I was feeling pretty good. I hung out with the usual football/soccer/baseball boys I would have in college and high school (Ex-Boyfriend was more of a musician than jock). It was nice meeting new people but every so often, I would glance over at his tailgate and would feel the immediate urge to drink more.
So I drank more. and more. and more. Between throwing up in the bathroom and attempting to walk the 100 plus blocks from where I got off the subway (because I was feeling too sick) back to my apartment downtown, I would say the day went from nice to tragically terrible. Of course, I was blabbering on the phone the entire time, trying to figure out where it went wrong. Oh what did I do to make him stop loving me?
Answer: nothing. Falling out of love is sucky and there’s no explanation for it. It just happens and the only way to get over it is to get over it. Oh yes, we could have dragged on if I hadn’t of brought it up on Friday, but I’m glad I did. I didn’t get the answer I had hoped for, but I did get the answer I was expecting (“I’m not ready to take this any further… to an emotional level”). A good friend of mine told me that I just have to take it one day at a time (this was after my first break up with Ex-Boyfriend). Of course, it’s more easily said than done but nothing is easy. I’m giving myself props just for actually going through with it. In the end, the right decision may not feel good at the time, but too often we’re too preoccupied with the short-term results as opposed to long term consequences. It’s time to buckle down and continue on this journey. It helps to know that this bumpy stretch of road will soon smooth out.
Meanwhile, I’m making pumpkin bread.
Well, I did it. Not exactly Morocco-bound. More like staring at the airplane in hesitation or perhaps crying in the bathroom stall but either way, what’s done is done.
The really sad part is that it’s never going to be what it was. And let me tell you, it was amazing. It was beautiful flowers on a second month anniversary, skipping work to go to the park, ice skating in Bryant Park… it was the most romantic love story. So romantic that I often questioned whether or not it was real. I guess it wasn’t.
Moving from the sad part to the IMPORTANT part. There is a sense of clarity that I haven’t felt in many many months. I thought it was sleep deprivation or stress when really my emotions were all mixed up. I am not a feminist but I do believe that if a boy makes you cry, he is not worth it. And boy did this boy make me cry. Crying at work. Crying at the bar. Crying on the floor of my friend’s apartment at a party. What? Can you say not-hot mess? So, for all of you gals who believe that your relationship or your oh-so-intense love for the most WONDERFUL man you’ve ever met is worth all the sleepness nights, anxiety, insecurity… it’s not. There are so many wonderful people out there! Not necessarily to date but just to meet. And all that time you’re spending sitting in bed, with your girl friends holding out tissues and various alcoholic beverages/baked goods for you to ease the pain, is time you’re not out living your life. Because in the end, if you waste any more time on this silly little man, you’ll miss your flight to Morocco.
Bon voyage mes amis! I’m boarding the plane.
Penny Lane asks drunkenly, “Why doesn’t he love me?”
I feel like when you’ve reached that stage, when you’re questioning why someone doesn’t love you? Well, it may be time to move on. The truth is, we can analyze, re-analyze, over analyze ourselves but the problem is not how we carry ourselves or the size of our thighs… if the feelings aren’t there, then it’s time to call it quits. You just can’t force these things.
Post-feminism and Oprah, how and why are women so dependent on relationships with men for a source of happiness? Just stop and think about it because it’s rather silly. When Penny Lane finally decides to quit her bad habit (Russell), she finally frees herself from her emotional chains of love, or lack thereof, and books a flight to Morocco. And you know what? I bet she has a kickass time.
I’d like to ponder this issue further… maybe when work slows down. So cheers. Here’s to Morocco. Window seat!