Like Being Low

I got dumped. A few weeks ago, maybe a month now. Wow, a month. Huh.

We were different people, it’s very sad.

Except, now that I’ve spent a month rattling around this giant empty apartment (you know, except for his random junk I keep finding in corners I forgot about ages ago, and cat-fur-tumbleweeds that will NEVER go away, even though he took the cat when he left) alone with my own weirdness, I’ve come to terms with various things.

1. The world is full of infinite possibilities. OK, I’m going to be this asshole: T.S. Eliot said “…The end is where we start from”. It’s completely cliche, but also completely true. In fact, I’ve been taking solace in the painfully obvious. For example, it’s just me now. My future is wide fucking open. There’s some alternate reality out there where I have a house and a dog and fifty more years with this guy. There are infinite alternate realities that spread out from that reality. And on and on. But that’s not the one I’ve got anymore. The reality I have now is one where the bottom fell out and it’s just me here on a Friday night contemplating life, the universe and everything while I listen to the hits of my youth and burn incense, And quote T.S. Eliot. Oh god, I’m that guy. But at any rate, the future is wide open, and I can do whatever I want with it.

2. It’s hard to see myself as an individual when I’m in a relationship. I work in a box office now (again) and I had a young woman come to my window yesterday. I asked her how many were in her party. “Six” she said. “There are two couples and they need to sit together, but the two regular people can sit wherever”. She didn’t call them “single” people, she called them “regular”. For whatever reason that stuck with me, and I found it comforting. “Single” sounds lonely, but “regular” seems sturdy and balanced and complete. It made the term “couple” seem like an affliction, something kind of gross. At least to me. She maybe saw it in the other way which is that “couples” have some magical couple-power that makes them stronger and better than the “regulars”. Dunno, don’t care. I’m regular now, and I’m doing OK.

3. Man, it really sucks getting dumped because of being sad. But on the other hand, I also recognize the sadness as being a part of my operation, my day-to-day, part of what makes me who I am. It’s the thing that drives me to create things, to tell jokes, to hope that things will get better, and to TRY to make them better. Nothing is more tedious than someone who is convinced that there is no good in the world, and that we are all doomed, and that all is lost. Hey, I know it seems like the world is fucked and it will never be UNfucked, but we only get one life, we should at least try to get what we can from it. Sad things happen pretty much every second (like, he gave me a nickname, and I’ve never had one and it made me feel amazing when he used it, and now he’s gone because I made him unhappy) but see above: Infinite Possibilities.

4. It’s time to do something about it. We’re supposed to try to learn something from every failed relationship. Well, this was some honors level shit. Thanks a whole bunch, universe! What I’ve learned is that I’m happier when I don’t have to answer to anyone. And when I don’t have to explain my jokes. And when I’m not anxiously waiting for someone else to come around. I know that we’re all searching for that person who makes us feel like we’re not alone. Hey, I have that person. I have a few of those people. They’re called friends. They were there before I fell in love, and they’re still here. And I don’t have to explain my jokes. So what do I do with that? Make stuff. Write more. Be a better friend.

5. We had a good run. I fell in love with another loner. Someone who challenged me on a daily basis. Someone who’s different perspective fascinated me and drove me crazy. Someone who treated me with respect until the last fucking second. In the beginning our differences brought out the best in us. In the end they killed us. But it had to happen, and honestly, we’re better for it. Or, at least, I am.

6. I don’t even want to THINK about dating. Yeah man, I think I’ll get a cat.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s