Retrospective: Chaos

I made plans in August of last year to visit a friend of mine, Jess, in South Texas. She lived near Houston, I lived near Dallas and we planned to meet in San Antonio and make loads of terrible choices. That was the plan anyway. One week later, my boyfriend dumped me. Upon hearing this news, Jess jumped in her car and drove straight up to see me. She is a selfless person like that. She stayed in town for a couple of days, we went out for meals for the most part and she was there to talk me through what felt like a death in my family. Well, something did die.

For two weeks after the break-up, I slept on a day bed in the front room of my house. I couldn't sleep in my room, the place where it all ended. The place where I had planned to do a silly half naked dance for my boyfriend, vulnerable and without a care in the world (because I got to see him finally after a really busy week), but was delivered a crushing blow instead. Jess slept in my bedroom while she stayed at my house. Each day she would ask me if I wanted to clean my room, which was a catastrophe to say the very least. Calling it messy, unorganized and gross barely scratches the surface. Each day the plea to clean it became more and more desperate. I did not understand why until she was in tears.

"Chaos," she said, "You're life is in utter chaos and you are waking up in chaos everyday. This is the one place you need to be the most put together, the most calm. Otherwise your environment will perpetuate whatever is going on in your life. I am begging you, let me clean your room. You need this."

She was right. Beyond right. The work began. It took two days. We piled up and threw away trash, shredded documents, bought crates, picture frames, shelves, baskets, candle holders, candles, statuettes, house plants, wall art, new bedding and a bookshelf. Everyday after waking up, I made my bed. clothes were never dropped on the floor. For two whole months, my room became an oasis of tranquility, a safe place, spotless from corner to corner. That was the first time in my life that I had ever taken care of my space like that. Later followed my bathroom, living room, car and my purse. Everything became clean organized and spotless.

I remember sobbing in my newly cleaned room. It was different than crying in the mess I had before. After collasping on my bed and staining the duvet with my tears, I would stare out the window at a tree waving about over tall grass. I was sad, but I knew I was somewhere designed to heal me. I needed this specific lifestyle while my heart was on the mend. A hospital for my soul.

Why only for two months? To be discussed later. For now, I raise my glass to Jess, my break-up Superwoman and one of the best people I could ever know.

Authentically: Thankful

Eat, Drink and Be Married?

I have been with my current boyfriend for about 5 months now. He's cuter, sweeter and better in bed than my last boyfriend. Yet, I am uneasy about something. It seems that the sooner a guy jumps into dating you after his last relationship, the quicker he is likely to say "I love you." We say "I love you" all of the time and I am pretty sure he wants to marry me. At least that is what he says. I am pretty sure he believes what he says too. I'm glad I am in his life to teach him better than that.


I have been harassed by relatives about settling down for a month now. Why is marriage the goal? What is the big damn deal and what is the rush? What about being happy? In my mind happiness transcends simply being with someone else. Sure, finding the right life-long partner sounds great, but how do you know it will actually be life-long? How do you know you will actually be happy with this person? Isn't it worth the wait to find out how you work with your boyfriend or girlfriend, to be sure that you will have a marriage that actually stays strong through all of life's many trials?

I would like to see what my boyfriend is like after all of the initial gushy, lovey-dovey behavior has faded. Don't get me wrong, I love it. I love the insane amount of sex we have and I love how he thinks I am the greatest and most beautiful girl in the world. He takes me out and treats me like a queen. I would LOVE for this behavior to continue forever, what girl wouldn't wish for that? The reality is, not many couples stay in the honeymoon phase. Hell, not many couples have that much sex. So what am I waiting for?

Fight!

The beautiful thing about fighting is the opportunity afterward for compromise, humility, forgiveness and sacrifice. You get to see how your significant other settles conflict, you get to find out what kind of communication happens. Don't get me wrong, I do not go looking for fights and I actually hate them, but in the hopefully rare times I disagree or fight with my boyfriend I see a real side of him. Sometimes it is he who sees a real side of me. Apologies are said, compromises are made and sometimes it is as simple as bad timing. If we still love each other after hating each other's guts (temporarily), then I know I have a winner.

I want to work to build a strong relationship with my boyfriend and this act of "building" takes time. How long? Who knows, it may take a few years but if we ever decide to say "I do," I will be confident knowing he and I did our research. Since I cannot predict the future or the "work" ahead, I do not see the point in picturing us walking down the aisle, feeding each other a wedding cake, or going on a honeymoon to Barbados.

Authentically: Realistic

The Home Field Advantage

I ran into my ex last November at a show, where I was drunk, most of the people there were my friends and the band playing was a band I introduced him to. It was helpful that he looked totally unattractive and his girlfriend (8 years his junior), usually pretty, looked like she was 12. I was hot, dancing and having a great time and guys bought me drinks all night, then I got laid. It was quite the triumphant night.

A couple nights ago was quite different. I arrived late to a concert of a group I auditioned for but didn't make it into. Not only was the new girlfriend in it, the TV outside the hall had her face on it the whole time. She was flawless, beautiful. Seeing her face made me ill.


It is probably important to mention that my ex broke up with me because he didn't want to be in an interracial marriage. I could go on about how it ripped me apart, how I couldn't look in the mirror, etc. but that is not what this post is about. More than six months later, I was shedding tears.

Perhaps because this time, I was on her turf...

I felt lonely and like a loser. I felt all of those feelings of rejection again. I escaped the hall as soon as the conductor took his last bow. Two nights later I had a vivid sex dream with my ex in it. I am feeling inconfident and not good enough all over again. He is back in my head but this time I don't think it will last too long. The next time I see him sober it will be easier. It was a necessary painful experience, and in retrospect it didn't last too long, like ripping off a band-aid...made of duct tape.

Next time it will not matter where we run into eachother or how drunk or sober I am, it will not always be like this. I really believe that.

Authentically: Hopeful

Friends Don't Fuck

I suppose there are several ways to respond to someone you have had meaningless sex with. You could either choose to never see this person again, be friends with this person, be weird around this person or a combination of the latter two. The last guy I slept with chose the latter two. It was not fun. I don't think I would ever want to be in a relationship with this guy, but hearing him talk about other girls and seeing him actively ignoring me was bothersome. I was emotionally attached and his avoiding me felt like rejection. If he didn't avoid me I might still be okay with casual sex, so it may just be this one guy. Then again, I could also choose to never have sex outside of a relationship and avoid this feeling altogether.

I vow not to ever sleep with this guy again. Every time he comes into town I sleep with him. The unfortunate thing is, afterward, he isn't comfortable around me. We're not really friends. We never gave each other a chance to be friends because of the sex. I sincerely hope this changes. I will always be thankful to him for helping me restore my confidence after my boyfriend left me, but the awkwardness has to stop. I no longer wish to put myself in a position to be rejected in this way, so the casual sex cruise will need to sail out of my personal revolution.

Authentically: Remorseful

Jelly Beans

I am not sure this new guy I had drinks with last night is interested in me. If he isn't, whatever. If he is, well, I don't know. He is a sweet hopeless romantic who never lets me pay for anything, but I can't avoid this feeling of wanting to jump out the window and run away screaming with my arms flailing in the air at the very thought of his attraction to me.

Right now, I don't want to be in a relationship, but I do want all of the perks. I miss holding hands, having a guy take the tab even when I offer to pay, the random phone calls and text messages, the intimate sex, cooking together and dancing together.

I want a "jelly bean." A decadent jelly bean. Like a dark chocolate truffle jelly bean, or an apple pie... I can taste the dessert the jelly bean emulates without the calories of the actual food. I'm sure I will eventually think, "Wait, this is just a jelly bean...I want a REAL banana split," but for now I would rather not. I would rather not deal with commitment.

I would normally say, as one would say when they have had their heart shattered, that I don't want to be with anyone unless he is extraordinary. The truth is, I'm scared. I was hurt. I do not want to deal with the possibility of being hurt again...yet.

Authentically: Afraid

The Error 404

I am not a morning person, and much like one who does not wish to get out of bed, I remain in bed with my laptop propped over my bent knees. This laptop feels like new, I just got it fixed at the local Geek Squad after it had been terminal for the last three months. When I looked to see if all of my photo files had remained from the massive removal of viruses, I came across a folder of pictures of me and my ex-boyfriend.

It was a ghostly experience, almost as if none of these events in the photos actually happened in real life. I tried to imagine his arm around me, his touch...but I couldn't feel it. I tried to imagine the genuine joy I was experiencing in those images, I couldn't remember it. How interesting...

Have you ever erased a file on your computer even though the shortcut remained on your desktop? What happens when you click on it? The screen flashes "File not found." Apparently, that is what my mind has done. All the things I held onto that made this breakup so hard has been thrown into the recycle bin. I couldn't be happier that my mind has this feature. That Twitter link I clicked on that disabled my laptop for three months wound up being a blessing.

I immediately erased all of his pictures off of my media drive. I think one of the most beautiful things about taking photos is to be able to recall an experience in my senses and my emotions. I can smell the apple pie I baked just by looking at the photo I took of it. I remember the feel of the monkey bars I used to swing from as a child in the photo my dad took. What is a captured image if it is missing its essence?

Authentically: Vacant

Since August...

I Lost 40 pounds from good diet and half marathon training
I had meaningless sex with a couple of different guys who don't live here
I joined a non-profit organization
I got high for much of the winter
I have started writing more.
I have spent countless amounts of money on drinking and watching live music, all resulting in new friends and good times.
I joined a radio show (or was given an open door policy)
I redecorated the master bedroom, bathroom and kitchen
I got a dog, black lab mix

For someone who was dumped 5 months ago, I seem to be doing well.

Last night I went to a great music show, drank the routine amount of Crown Royal with Diet Coke, went downtown to a pizzeria, ate 2 slices of pizza and a chocolate dipped canoli and then proceeded to drive home tired and not yet sober. Once home, I threw off my shirt dress and concluded a very fun evening by passing out on my beautiful cloud of a bed. So far so good.

This morning, I woke up feeling like a loser, like my life is out of control. This isn't the first time I have woken up feeling this way. I could feel the the entire space between my mind and my heart swelling, feeling sore. I decided that this is the place where my soul lies. The chamber of truth. The one place that paints a real picture of us all, despite how one's life is displayed on the outside. My soul has been in conflict with the surface.

I long to be honest about myself and how I am feeling at this point, long after my boyfriend and I parted. After five months, your friends don't want to hear about it anymore. I would share my woes via networking sites but I'm afraid that would be counterproductive to actual socialization. No one is truly allowed to be less than great on Facebook without being seen as "psycho" or "emo."

Now enters "The Authentic Place." I am writing this blog anonymously. I hope it will help anyone looking for an honest reaction to the good and the bad we all experience in our lives, with respect to recovery from loss and starting anew. I am happy that I now have a place where I don't have to omit, lie, exaggerate or put up a front.

Authentically: Released