The past week, I've done a lot of prep for this trip. The first step was to clean. I never want to come home to a messy apartment, so I put a bunch of time in to just straightening and cleaning and putting away. I'd already stashed most of the things related to my break up that made me sad to look at, but there's one thing I'd left out. Last January (2011), my dad came down to visit and found me down. He told me about a strategy he uses from time to time. When things get too rough, write down whatever you can't let go on a slip of paper. Put that slip of paper in a jar, or a bowl, or what not. When there are a lot of slips of paper, burn them all, without reading them. In the early days of this January, I'd filled out a LOT of slips of paper, and I'd been holding off on burning them until I was sure I wasn't that likely to add more. Finally, as part of cleaning, I took the jar (I keep mine in an old used up Yankee Candle jar, I can be positive it's fire proof...) and burned them.
I read one or two of them first, somewhat inadvertantly, since the text was facing up. In truth, I'm glad I did. There was one phrase written there that had been on my mind a lot the last few weeks. See, John (the ex over whom so much of this was triggered) had said to me on the phone in mid-February that he felt like he ruined everything. I'd really latched on to that phrase, and started to feel like I'd co-opted it from him when I started thinking it myself. But there, in my jar - which I hadn't added to since the second weekend of January - was written on a slip of paper, "I ruin everything." It wasn't from him, I'd had it all along. Seeing that, and then watching it burn, felt really good.
So that was my ending. I burned the last of the bad, on Sunday, and I think it's a piece of why I feel a lot better this week (which started Friday night, so it's not just that - it's really a combination of things which have happened, starting with a rock-bottom moment on Friday morning). I'd like to write about all of that, but I really don't have time just now...oh, screw it. Quick overview. On Friday morning, I was feeling very low. This culminated around 9 AM when I walked the dog, and I got in the elevator, and another woman was in there, and she gave me the hairy eyeball for getting in with my dog, who was acting a bit rambunctious. I hate when people do that to me, and so when I left I said, "you don't have to roll your eyes at me, she's not going to hurt you." It felt good to fight back, but it always feels lousy when folks are mean to my pooch, she's not well trained but she's perfectly sweet. The training is my part. Anyway, I got back to my apartment, and promptly started to cry. I'm assuming hormones, though not PMS, apparently. Still, it was shocking. That's just not normal. I pushed through, went about my day, and decided to go to a lecture that afternoon. While at the lecture, a strange but cute guy sat next to me and started a conversation. And...it was nice. We just talked. Then, after the lecture, we just talked more. We ended up walking back to the train together, at which point we shook hands and said goodbye. I'm sure I'll never see him again, yet it was just a great experience. It made me feel wanted and interesting, and feeling curious and mystified and intrigued and engaged by another person - and, really, by a cute guy - also felt good. I got home feeling much better. Then, on Saturday morning, out of the blue my ex called. I still really care about him and miss him and am coping with the sadness of the break up, and I'll admit it never occurred to me that he would just call me because he felt like talking about life. It was really nice, and we had a really pleasant conversation about nothing important. For an hour. And he said he would be happy to meet me for dinner when I drive through his area. Then...just, the weekend went okay. So add it all up, and I feel good about life. What a change from last Monday! And now really I have to stop.
For my new beginning...in all of this, one of the things that kept cropping up in my head was how alone I felt, how isolated, how I feel like no one cares. This is obviously nonsense, but surprisingly hard to refute. Yet, I'm about to go on a road trip where I will see literally dozens of people who care about me. Like, I'd have to count, but I'd guess around 30 or 40. Maybe even more. So, I'm going to ask all of these people if I can take their photographs, and I'm going to make myself an album of all of the people who care about me, and next time I start feeling like no one cares, I'll just pull that down. I won't get everyone in there - my mother, my friends in NYC, my friends and family who live in more distant places like Texas and California, I won't be seeing any of them, but I can add their pictures when I DO see them. I'm really looking forward to this project. It's sort of like a scrap book...but with out all the collage. ;)
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