Tuesday

The hardest part about trying to get over someone is seeing them before you are ready.  That moment you see them coming towards you in the crowded bar is like slow motion, there is no time to run, and you can't pretend that you didn’t see them because you already made accidental eye contact.  Last TI stopped mid-sentence when I saw D walking right towards me.  My heart stopped.

The first thing I noticed is that he cut his hair and I like it.  Why do I still wish I could run my fingers through it?  That is beside the point, even if we did talk about his hair cut.  He asked me where I have been.  My question of whether or not he would notice my absence was answered.  He asked when I was coming back to that certain social event that used to put us in the same place once a week.  I tried to be nonchalant (I think I succeeded), and said I had been busy and I would think about coming back.  He kept pushing the issue, but I didn’t cave.  As he got up from the table I was occupying, he asked again:

D: So I will see you Tuesday?

Me: Maybe, I will think about it.

D: So that is a yes.

Me: It’s a I’ll think about it.

D: I see how it is.  I cut my hair and you don’t find my charming anymore.

Me: (Jokingly) That isn’t it.  We both know the problem is I do still find you very charming.  I will see you later. (ending the subject, and dismissing him)

As he disappeared to another level of the bar, I hoped that would be all I would see of him.  Thinking that my last comment might have been enough to keep him away.  I was wrong.  About 30 minutes later, he came down the stairs and perched a stool across from where my table sat  - blocking my way to the bar.  When he was engaged in conversation, I decided to take the opportunity to slip to the bar and grab another cocktail.  As I squeezed by, he called me out for walking past without talking to him.  I made some comment along the lines of the bar calling my name.  

When I returned from the bar just a few short minutes later, he was suddenly all alone.  I told him I wasn’t ignoring him, I was just getting a drink.  We chatted for a few minutes before he decided to join some of our friends on trip to get pizza.  I passed and said goodbye.  He once again made a push for me to be at our social engagement.  I stuck with my maybe.  

I want to go!  I want to be around him, but I can’t.  I can’t control the word vomit that comes out of my mouth when I have had one too many glasses of wine.  I can’t help but want to pull him into me by the ends of his bow tie when he leaves it hanging, untied, from his collar.  I do still find him incredibly charming, and that is why I wasn’t ready to see him.   

Right now, thinking about it ties me in knots.  I didn’t want him to act like he misses seeing me, or being mad that I walked by without talking to him.  I want to be mad, I am mad, but why do I feel like I want to cry?  I know he doesn’t mean what I want him to by the things he says.  He doesn’t miss me, he misses the attention I have always given him.  Yet, I miss him.  Things come up that I want to talk to him about, but I can’t.  Tuesdays are the worst.  

I find things to do on Tuesdays so I don’t feel so tempted to go and see him.  Whether it is the gym or making dinner for friends, I keep busy.  One day Tuesday will be just another day with no significance, but that day isn’t this Tuesday.  

The Answer is in Me ...

I am back to where I was in August in a lot of ways, going to the gym instead of my weekly social engagement that involves D.  Trying so desperately to get over him, or the very least, not feel the need to say awkward, dramatic things when I am around him.  To be in a room with him and not feel like he is the only boy I want to talk to would be an improvement on life.  

Can you really stop being attracted to someone?  Can you somehow stop finding things they do charming or endearing when they haven’t given you a reason to?  Every boy for whom I’ve had these feelings in the past exited my life on their own accord.  They didn’t give me a choice in the matter.  They either walked away and never looked back, or did something so unforgivable that I would never find them charming again.  For the first time in my life I am trying to walk away from someone before they wreck me, before they can walk away leaving me broken.  I am tired of being broken.   

I already can see the writing on the wall with D.  I always thought, and he even said once, if things were different, we would have been different.  Now things are different, and we were both right.  Things are different, but not the way I had always hoped for.  It turns out I don’t know how to be around D, not really.  I think the fact that we both know how much I care about him looms like a dark cloud, putting a damper on any idea of possibility.  The excitement that was once there is now anxiety.  For the first time, the question of how he feels hangs, suspended with no answer in sight.  I am choosing to make that my answer.  Instead of waiting around for months in hope that he will choose me, just to be devastated, I am moving on.    

I once said that the answer was in someone new.  I was wrong.  The answer isn’t in a boy distraction, though they don’t hurt.  The answer is in myself.  The answer is in why I would want to be someone’s second choice.  Why I find people that don’t pursue me to be so appealing, when I deserve someone that will go out of their way to be with me, is a question I have to ask myself.  The more I limit my interaction with D, the easier it will be for me to realize these things.  At least that is what I am hoping.  

It is week two, and I wonder if he will even notice that I am not there.  Will he feel relieved?  A part of me knows the answer to that question is yes.  What week, if any, will he start to miss my quirky charm?  These things are unproductive to think about, but it is only week two and I am human.  As the weeks pass, and my body gets stronger from the extra gym time, so will my heart.  

Skinny Day

As a perpetually chubby girl, my life is separated into two kinds of days - skinny days and everything else.  A skinny day is the type of day when you wake up and your skirt is looser, you have less backfat in your top, or you just feel more overall comfortable and confident in both your clothes and body.  A skinny day is a day that you actually like seeing your reflection in every mirror that you come across.   Last week I had a wonderful skinny day!  I tried on a skirt that had been a little too tight, and lo and behold, it fit just right.  My waist looked tiny, and even my boss told me I looked very nice.  

Anything can happen on a skinny day! When you feel good, then good things happen to you.  It is the kind of day when you say hello to the cute guy on the metro, or have a stranger buy you a drink.  It’s the kind of day when you make a new friend, kick ass at work, or have a hotty with potential ask for your number.  Life is full of infinite possibilities on a skinny day!    

My parents texted me, and told me, if my boss would let me off work,they would fly me home for Easter, no matter the cost.  My boss approved the time off, and I booked a flight home.  There are times when I miss the South, and most importantly, I miss my family.  My two nieces are growing up too fast.  I miss the familiar one-way streets of my small town, and the people I have known all my life.  Don’t get me wrong, I love DC and all that it has to offer.  I will never move back to my small hometown on the Mississippi River.  As charming and nostalgic as it may be to visit, I have grown beyond what it has to offer as a permanent home.  All the same, I am excited to be there for Easter, and that excitement helped build on an already wonderful skinny day.

My skinny day good fortune did not end there.  In my pursuit for everyday to be a skinny day, I went to Zumba with Lisa.  Lisa turned in her guest pass for a full-fledged membership to the gym, meaning I now have a permanent work out buddy!  My good fortune continuing, I got a $50 dues credit for referring her.  After our kick ass Zumba class, we went to the front desk so Lisa could arrange her free personal trainer session that came with her membership.  The trainer must be in need of clients, because he offered me a free session as well! You have got to love free things!  

A skinny day is the best kind of day.  For me, skinny days seem to be few and far between lately.  I am working to change that though.  Even though my body is nowhere near where I want it, I feel better about myself because I am going to the gym and trying.  Maybe I will never be as small as I was sophomore year of college ever again.  However, that doesn’t mean I can’t look beautiful, healthy, and even a little bit sexy.  

As y’all start your weeks, I wish you lots of skinny days full of confidence and possibility!  

Reckless

Sometimes making a spontaneous, poor decision is needed.  After over thinking every aspect of your life, sometimes you just need to do something without thinking.  Being spontaneous can remind yourself that you are still young and free.  That is how I found myself waking up in a hotel room in Rosslyn Saturday morning.  I made out with a beautiful Air Force officer from Georgia - they always seem to be from Georgia!  

I casually sipped my wine waiting for the Air Man and his friend to approach me; I couldn't wait to flirt with him.  There was a reason I let Elle leave me at the bar when she got tired.  I noticed their group when they walked into the bar, and I was in need of some male attention, especially from someone new.   

I don’t know why I decided to ride the metro to Rosslyn with him when I was a block away from my apartment.  Maybe it was the offer to help him pack and make out that seemed so appealing.  I liked that he was drawing a line in the sand, so I wouldn’t have to.  Maybe it was his crystal blue eyes that popped against his tan skin.  Or maybe, just maybe, it was the idea of being reckless, the idea of adventure, that made me get on that train.  Whatever it was, at the time, I wasn’t giving it any thought.  The Air Man was leaving in the morning, so we only had that night.  

Holding hands on the metro and walking through his hotel lobby - it all seemed so much like a movie.  It wasn’t until we were in the elevator that he told me he had a girlfriend back home.  I guess the guilt was sinking in.  It was now 3am and I was at a hotel in Rosslyn.  After contemplating the fact that getting home would be nearly impossible at that point, I went into his hotel room to help him pack.  There are two beds, and after telling him that he brought me there under false pretenses, I climbed in my own bed, wearing my slip.  

As he walks to his bed in his boxer briefs, I realize staying in my own bed would be harder than I thought, especially since we had already kissed.  The Air Man was hot, chiseled, and lean.  In the dark, we began to talk, and he invited me to join him in his bed, just to make out.  I was torn.  In so many ways, the damage was already done.  He had already kissed me and invited me to his hotel room.  I threw my moral girl code to the wind and climbed in bed with the most beautiful man I have ever let kiss me.  

Things got heated, but we never crossed the ultimate line.  My slip never came off, even if my bra did.  As the sun came through the window, the guilt came with it.  I layed there for a while, not quite ready to face the shame of leaving a hotel in my clothes from the night before.  When I did slip out of bed, I grabbed my things and tiptoed to the bathroom.  After reassembling myself, and brushing my teeth with my finger I emerged not knowing what to say.  The Air Man didn’t either.  He couldn’t get up because his boxers were across the room, which, for the record, I don't remember happening.  I could tell he hated himself for cheating, and I felt like an evil temptress.  

After the most awkward goodbye in the history of goodbyes, I made my way to the cab line.  My attempt at being spontaneous had resulted in me choosing something I had never chosen before.  I had chosen to be the other woman, fulling knowing that some girl back in Georgia would be broken hearted if she ever knew.  Not even with D, someone I have said I love you to, have I crossed the physical line once I knew another girl existed.  Maybe it was because unlike every other time, I knew I wouldn’t run into him at the frat house, student union, the bar, or the Longworth Cafeteria.  I will never see him ever again.  I won’t have to run into, and be reminded of, my indiscretion.  

I was spontaneous and reckless.  I had fun.  I just hope I didn’t wreck some poor girl’s heart.  

Epiphany

It is funny when epiphanies happen.  It is always at the oddest times and in the most inopportune places.  Yesterday I had an epiphany in the middle of Zumba class.  I have been trying to date the same guy my whole life.  D is a Liam, who was an Adam, who was also a Bryan, who was ultimately a Caleb (See the Many Loves of My Life … for reference).  The reason why I feel so comfortable with each of these guys is that I have been trying to date a version of them since I was 13 years old.  

I try to act like I am so evolved and my life is so different now than it was in college, but it really isn’t.  I have one bar that I go to more than any other, and I am friends with the people that work there.  I am continuing to chase an unattainable boy that, no matter how much I think we click, will never end up dating me.  I fake confidence, because deep down I am one big insecure mess.  I have been since the day I got glasses in the 2nd grade, or had to shoot free throws granny style in the 3rd, and got called fat for the first time in the 4th. I heard the boys in college refer to me as Bee’s fat friend.  It is very hard to feel good about yourself when people have been telling you your whole life that you have no reason to.  I am still the scared girl that went home in tears everyday in the 3rd grade.  The girl that’s mother held her back so she wouldn’t be picked on anymore.  

No matter how much I try to pretend that none of that matters anymore, I still find myself searching for other people’s approval, and especially approval from the men in my life.  I make out with a boy just to prove that I can.  I sleep with practical strangers, but I barely kiss the people that I love.  I play the part

of the bombshell, because it is easier than being the vulnerable self-imploding mess that is me.  

I really want to change.  I don’t want to hide under layers of spanxs and red lipstick.  I don’t want to continue my vicious cycle of unhealthy, one sided relationships.  I want to stop being selfish and making my grand dramatic speeches, because they are selfish.  I say them so that I feel better, and I don’t think about how much harder they probably make things for the people I give them too.  

I live in this big, wonderful city filled with so many people I have never met.  I am going to go out and meet more of them.  I am going to try new bars, and make new friends.  I am going to stop complaining about how much I hate my body, and I am going to actually work to change it.  Holding back on here is not an option anymore, because when I do I lose my outlet for my crazy.  I am going to actually give myself a chance to heal my heart too.  I am never going to be able to find someone that makes me happy, that can give me all of them if I am not whole myself.  It is time for me to take back my heart from D, Liam, Adam, Bryan, Caleb and any other guy that has undeservingly held a piece of it.    

I am always saying that  I am going to change parts of my life and never do.  This time I mean it.  This time I see that I am the only person keeping myself from being happy.  It is not some cosmic plot to make me miserable.  I was watching “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” and there was a part that really resonated with me.  Sam is crying and she asks Charlie why we let the people in our lives treat us like shit.  He answers, “We accept the love that we think we deserve.”

I am not going to sit in my studio and let myself get lonely or feel sorry for myself any longer.  I am stronger than I realize.  My imperfections are what make me beautiful.  The following two quotes are my inspiration for self confidence, my crutch to lean on, and the motos I should live life by.