But all that joy was sapped from me this week. How pathetic and fragile I am! I learned that my ex-boyfriend is in a relationship with someone new, and I am going crazy. I feel like I'm dying, and I know sometimes there are old married couples where one partner dies within months of the other, due to a broken heart.
Foolish me, I'm so pitiful. I've been holding onto hope that Geoff would change, become somehow more spiritual, drink less, exercise more, eat less, and eventually desire a marriage and family thing with me. But it's not going to happen.
Men move on. They need sex, they need substitute mommies to feed them and nurture them. I'm just not that girl for Geoff. And someone else is. Ughh.
You know the saying, "It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all," well, I say bullshit. I wish I'd never loved this Geoff. I'm so sad.
I was hoping to land a teaching job or have a hit single that would finance our future life together: traveling, dining out, and doing all those fun things we talked about doing over drinks at bars, growing up, going to college together, moving in together, blah blah blah. The memories, the fights, the laughter, lots of laughter! We'd spent ten years as muffins. I'd long envisioned what our baby muffins would look like. My mother worried I wouldn't be able to give birth naturally because Geoff's head is very big. Luckily, in 10 years of being irresponsible and experimental partners, Geoff and I never got pregnant. One of Geoff's friends once told me his sperm was "pickled" due to heavy drinking. I guess the new girl can have her go. Good luck to her.
Geoff and I had different visions of what a fun, appropriate, responsible, and healthy lifestyle looked like. We made mistakes and hurt each other. But the friendship that grew out of our breakup was beautiful. I went to live and work in NYC. We saw each other every other weekend and savored every moment together. Then I returned to Rhode Island and took up yoga and juicing, and Geoff took up comic books and card games, and we did our separate things, and I lived down the road, and we would go on bike rides as well as out for a cocktail and appetizer a couple times a week. It was like we were dating, but without any expectation of sex. This friendship lasted a year or so, then I moved back to Tupper Lake, and 6 months later Geoff moved on.
The worse part is the timing. My parents' 2 dogs (which I considered my dogs) both died this month. I don't think I've cried so much ever in my life. Lindsay was 9 years old, and her puppy Sherman was 7. Sherman mysteriously died only 3 weeks after Lindsay.
I think its good for someone like me to be dealt a little abuse once in a while. I don't pay any bills, I live with my parents, play the piano, go on walks, and work a couple very low-stress per diem jobs which I make my own hours for. When I get calls to substitute teach in the winter, I sometimes don't answer my phone. Like if I'm having a good dream, or just feel like being lazy, I ignore the call.
I'm lazy. I'm a wuss. I cried when I got blood drawn 6 years ago for my thyroid. I was tougher in high school. I donated blood a couple times then. I was humble and kind. I didn't have boyfriends, I was kind of chubby and had 80's style bangs. Yeah, I was nicer then.
I guess I need to take a piece of the pain pie once in a while. It's sad that the thought of a person can rile my insides like he has. I love you Geoff. I'm sorry I scratched your car last year when you went out for a drink with a classmate. Congrats on finishing your MBA. I do hope you live a wonderful life and find happiness. You deserve it. I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you.
