Am I a Debbie Downer? It occurred to me today most of my posts recently have been kind of sad (duh) and I honestly don’t mean to be a big bummer. I actually didn’t expect to write much about my broken heart; I usually have to wait for time to pass, allow things to process for a year or two, and then I am able to write about sad things.
This is different though. I didn’t realize how much writing about my broken heart would help me feel hopeful that my heart won’t always feel so broken. And it does help. It helps to go back and reread my words when I feel like I’m not moving forward; it’s good to have tangible proof that no, I still hurt, but look at me being honest about my feelings! Look at me sharing my words instead of holding them in and avoiding them.
Today was hard. Remember those time bombs I talked about yesterday? I got the mother of all time bombs today. An order I had placed a LONG time ago showed up in my mailbox. It was a surprise for Slim, something I’d spent the better part of a year looking for and finally found at the beginning of February. I was going to give it to him for our Meetiversary and I couldn’t wait to see his expression. In all the sadness, I’d completely forgotten about it. And yet today, there it was. And now what? What do I do with it?
Tick tick tick…oof.
In the 2+ years since I met Slim, this is the longest he and I have ever gone without talking to each other. Even before we were together, we were best friends. We talked at least 5 times a day. And now? My best friend is just gone. I still haven’t figured out this new life wherein I just don’t talk to him at all. It’s very surreal to me. I miss my best friend, y’all. And even though I’m surrounded by wonderful people who just want to help me feel better however they can, they aren’t him. He was the person who understood what I was thinking, right when I was thinking it. Talking to him always made me feel better. And now here I am, feeling crummier than I’ve ever felt before, and the one person I want to tell what I’m thinking is the one person who wouldn’t make me feel better at all.
It’s kind of a cruel joke.
I keep waiting for the Kelly Clarkson phase of the break-up, the part where I get irrationally angry and go for long drives and long runs, blasting KC (because that girl knows how to sing the hell out of a broken heart) and telling myself I’m better off anyway. So far, it hasn’t come. I don’t feel better off. I just feel frozen. Numb. And sad.
Man, I really am a Debbie Downer. When I start posting in song lyrics, will you guys promise to intervene? Because if you don’t, I’ll start drowning my sorrows in crappy emo music and the entire Twilight saga (sorry Linds).
And that? That was the scariest sentence I’ve ever written in my whole life. Send help. And Kelly Clarkson.
So yeah, maybe the blog will be sad for a little while. Who knows though? Maybe there’s another girl out there, crying on her garage floor next to a pile of boxes, who needs to know she isn’t alone. (Psst. You’re totally not alone, weepy girl. But can I recommend putting a blanket between you and that cold concrete floor? You’ll be glad you did. And honey? It won’t always feel like this. I hope.)