Break Up Blog

I was cruising back through my day planner today examining the events of the last year and phew, I am worn out now. The calendar is a tell-tale roadmap of the rollercoaster that was my life for the approximately 5 months that I allowed my ex to perpetually reenter it. Needless to say I am very much looking forward to 2011 and the beautiful things it should bring if I am entitled the karma that everyone keeps saying I am. I am picturing Ellen Degeneres showing up at my house and offering to entertain me personally with stand-up while her vegan chef cooks me a 6 course dinner. Additionally, global warming will be reversed by all the vegetarians taking over the US, so I don’t have to worry about that anymore, beer reverts to being a quarter at bars in the Northern Kentucky area, and I win four free trips to Disney…no make that five.

When someone tells you that they will never hurt you, all that means is that they can not envision themselves hurting you at that particular time. And being hurt sucks. When everything you think you want and love falls apart in a matter of a few weeks, the physical pain of it rivals the emotional pain. My calendar reads like a blank book for those three weeks following our return from the “Anniversary” Trip which was actually “Ann watches in vain while her wife texts her new girlfriend” Trip. The calendar is literally blank, which is how I felt. I look at it now as wasted time, a period in my life that I barely remember and don’t want to. I do remember at times walking through the grocery with an empty cart (see what I am doing with the empty metaphors?) in a zombie like state, not even knowing what I was doing there because I wasn’t hungry in the least.

Slowly but with marked set-backs every time she decided that she wanted to get back together (for sure this time, not like last time, I cant live without you, you are my everything, blah, blah, blah,) I began to climb through the fog. I could breathe easier each week, I could enjoy myself with my friends, I could get through most of a work day without spending 2 hours in the bathroom stall crying into my sad little wad of toilet paper. Set-backs however were usually fairly extreme each time that I caught her cheating again and felt insanity like I have never felt to the point of blind rage.

I would feel that I had finally reached the breaking point, that moment when I knew that I had to move on, however I never really got there. There was always this voice in my head telling me that I would never find someone again and that it would be best and easiest to try to go back to things the way they were before. But of course you can never go back to things the way they were before, life doesn’t work that way and thank God that it doesn’t. Too many of us would simply push that rewind button, go back to our old ways and never know what could have been or what should have been.

Advice from friends and from the rational side of my self would seem to make sense and register but then wisp out of my ear like smoke in a car escaping through open windows. The strength was there one minute, and gone the next. I had a distinct inability to hate any of her flaws. Things that I had known were flaws when we were together were always endearing to me since they were a part of her. Once I finally had the trigger that allowed me to pull away I saw all of those flaws in high definition and surround sound. They were magnified and so apparent to me that I could not understand why I had not been able to see them during the roller coaster ride. I guess when you are moving that fast and there is so much up and down and upside down turns you can’t see the bumps and cracks.

For example, how could overt narcissism be anything but disgustingly annoying? I don’t understand what I saw as endearing in that trait and the world may never know. When I finally opened myself up to meeting someone new at just the time that the final text that broke the cheater’s back was found, it was almost an instantaneous release of my feelings for her.
I was no longer attracted to her, I saw every flaw in her and her life, I could breathe, I could make decisions, and most importantly, I was happy. That moment when you know you are free is like finding the solution to the ultimate math problem.

Obviously that trigger is different for everyone, finding it is key, but it’s like one of those flying keys in Harry Potter that are nearly impossible to catch without magic. Perhaps that is one of the reasons that break ups and relationships are so difficult, just like snowflakes no two are the same.

So I am sure I will learn many more lessons but just a little too late, as is my trend. But for now I am going to go clean my house and give Koda a bath because Ellen Degeneres is coming over very soon!

Movies My Dad Likes

My taste in movies is a bit like my taste in music, in that there is no real rhyme or reason to my collection. It is safe to assume that the collection of movies I currently own (minus some that were unfortunately lost in the robbery, I mean last break up) represent my favorite movies. Among them are romance, documentaries, scary movies, musicals (OK, maybe an overabundance of these,) cartoons, drama, etc.

I found myself DVRing and then watching Only The Lonely a few nights ago and I sat wondering why in the hell I consistently watch this movie when it is on and what about it I really enjoy. I couldn’t put my finger on it, save for one quality it contained. My Dad loves it. I then walked over to the bookcase containing all my DVDs (and yes some remaining VHS Tapes) and scanned the collection for further evidence of movies I like just because my Dad does. There they sat, staring back at me in all their randomness: Star Wars, Dances with Wolves, The Great Outdoors, The Muppets Take Manhattan, Riding in Cars with Boys, Superman. The list goes on and on.

For the most part, my personal favorite genres of movie can be summed up in Chick Flicks (i.e. Fried Green Tomatoes,) Musicals (duh,) and witty comedies (i.e. Mean Girls.) However my overall list of Favorite movies extends well beyond those constrictions. Our love for things such as movies and music can stem from so many factors other than simply plot, theme or category. Star Wars is the best example because under controlled circumstances I would never enjoy those movies. Poorly acted fantasy about space and robots, not my typical cup of tea. But we watched them when we were little, Dad liked them, so we wanted to like them, too so we could all watch together. They are attached to some foggy memories that I can’t even recall which make me feel comfortable and safe.

I believe that this love of things my parents love extends over to my Disney obsession. Just as my Dad rolls his eyes whenever I get a new pet and then gushes over them when he sees them, he will tease me about Disney trips but secretly loves being there as much as I do. Last time we went to Epcot we walked in grabbed a map and Dad said I don’t care what we do but when can we go on “Ellen’s Energy Adventure?” I regrettably had to inform him that this ride was under construction for the month, and darned if the 60 year old President of a successful Engineering firm didn’t look at me and pout his lower lip in protest. Now that I am older I realized that he loves the Hall of Presidents, so I love going to the Hall of Presidents with him, even though I likely would have skipped it without him.

Whether my love for Disney stems from my parents loving the place and taking us there every year, or they loved it so much because of watching me enjoy it, I can’t be sure. It’s the chicken or the egg question and honestly could be a combination of both factors.

Regardless, it is apparent to me that my parents values, pastimes and taste have a huge affect on my activities and I am glad that they do. Every time I watch Clueless I picture my dad holding up his fingers in a “W’ and saying “WHATever!!”