Taurus
Happy Valentine Daze, Taurus! During this lover's holiday, I encourage you to devote yourself full-time to acting like a person who's in love. Even if you're not currently in the throes of passion for a special someone, pretend you are. Everywhere you go, exude that charismatic blend of shell-shocked contentment and blissful turmoil that comes over you when you're infatuated. Let everyone you meet soak up the delicious wisdom you exude. Dispense free blessings and extra slack like a rich saint high on natural endorphins. (I assure you that this assignment is in perfect accord with the astrological omens.)
Astrological omens of what, exactly? Give it up -- what's in store? I've become quite the little psychic junkie lately. I'm about two steps away from throwing my Tarot cards at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror and then sliding down the wall sobbing, a la Lifetime television movies. It's proving that the present is just too boring to deal with right now (or blog about) and I'm ready for shit to happen already.
I was thinking about all this in relation to some interesting news I've received: My first love and high school sweetheart is expecting his first child. Which, you know, awesome! But also: weird.
He and I were quite dumb when we were together, in that retardedly naive way 17-year-olds are. We were convinced we were made for each other, sure that we would be together forever, and were quite needy of each other. Again, we were sort of dumb. But we believed it. We talked about living together, about being married, and having children. When we broke up, right after graduation, it devastated me. I got over it, of course, the way you get over your first love —— by stomping around the house in a funk listening to nonstop soggy romance tunes and bursting into tears whenever I saw mundane household items such as the sugar bowl because it reminded me of the one time we made cookies together. It was all very dramatic and high school. But obviously it was the right thing because it spun me off to college a single woman and eventually into a new relationship. A relationship that was better for me. A relationship that let me grow and change and not have it be about Forever but instead be more about Right Now.
And look at us now: polar opposites. He's married and expecting his first child and working as an organist and music director and I'm single and living here with roommates and a cat working in publishing. We are completely different people, both from who we were then and from each other. All's well that ends well.
Last night, however, I started to feel the bitterness creep in a bit. Everyone is mojo-ing along quite nicely and I'm feeling stalled once again. And as much as I know this hiatus is apart of the bigger picture and teaching me a lesson of, like, self appreciation and patience or something, it gets frustrating. I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do next. Or if I'm supposed to do anything at all, even. All I do know is that I am tired of this chapter and ready for the next.
Happy Valentine Daze, Taurus! During this lover's holiday, I encourage you to devote yourself full-time to acting like a person who's in love. Even if you're not currently in the throes of passion for a special someone, pretend you are. Everywhere you go, exude that charismatic blend of shell-shocked contentment and blissful turmoil that comes over you when you're infatuated. Let everyone you meet soak up the delicious wisdom you exude. Dispense free blessings and extra slack like a rich saint high on natural endorphins. (I assure you that this assignment is in perfect accord with the astrological omens.)
Astrological omens of what, exactly? Give it up -- what's in store? I've become quite the little psychic junkie lately. I'm about two steps away from throwing my Tarot cards at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror and then sliding down the wall sobbing, a la Lifetime television movies. It's proving that the present is just too boring to deal with right now (or blog about) and I'm ready for shit to happen already.
I was thinking about all this in relation to some interesting news I've received: My first love and high school sweetheart is expecting his first child. Which, you know, awesome! But also: weird.
He and I were quite dumb when we were together, in that retardedly naive way 17-year-olds are. We were convinced we were made for each other, sure that we would be together forever, and were quite needy of each other. Again, we were sort of dumb. But we believed it. We talked about living together, about being married, and having children. When we broke up, right after graduation, it devastated me. I got over it, of course, the way you get over your first love —— by stomping around the house in a funk listening to nonstop soggy romance tunes and bursting into tears whenever I saw mundane household items such as the sugar bowl because it reminded me of the one time we made cookies together. It was all very dramatic and high school. But obviously it was the right thing because it spun me off to college a single woman and eventually into a new relationship. A relationship that was better for me. A relationship that let me grow and change and not have it be about Forever but instead be more about Right Now.
And look at us now: polar opposites. He's married and expecting his first child and working as an organist and music director and I'm single and living here with roommates and a cat working in publishing. We are completely different people, both from who we were then and from each other. All's well that ends well.
Last night, however, I started to feel the bitterness creep in a bit. Everyone is mojo-ing along quite nicely and I'm feeling stalled once again. And as much as I know this hiatus is apart of the bigger picture and teaching me a lesson of, like, self appreciation and patience or something, it gets frustrating. I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do next. Or if I'm supposed to do anything at all, even. All I do know is that I am tired of this chapter and ready for the next.
3 Comments:
Will you marry me?
Why do you always make me think, dammit!h
Brian -- I think that Nazzi might take offense.
Renee -- Word.
Another thing I find myself feeling is jealousy. This is stupid. I hate being jealous. Jealousy is an obnoxious, pointless emotion. The fact that I am feeling jealousy in relation to my friends and loved ones who are in perfectly healthy and happy relationships is pissing me the fuck off. For real, what's the point?
Renee, we're going to need a box of wine each, I think.
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