Train Wreck?

I just saw Train Wreck, and of course Amy Schumer nailed it on the head.  When you get past all the awkward, gut-wrenching humor, there was a layer to the story that was kind of a wakeup call for me.  I might not be as extreme as Amy’s character is, but I have spent a lot of time hiding behind booze, sex, and self deprecating humor.  Two years ago I was in a boozy, angry, sad downward spiral.  I may have fought my way out of it with therapy and antidepressants, but that doesn’t mean that those tendencies aren’t there, lingering under the surface.  

I turned 28 last week, and although I pretended to be happy about it, said things like “age is just a number” and all the other things you say when you are aging with grace, deep down it bothered me.  Not because the number itself but the fact that I still don’t have anyone to go home with at the end of the night.  I know, I’m still young, blah blah blah.  It’s the fact that I am honestly starting to believe that there isn’t anyone out there for me.  Not everybody gets a happy ending.  I know, I eat lunch with 2 amazing women in their 60s who never got married.  Just because we want something doesn’t mean we get it, or that we deserve it.    

Maybe it’s the fact that I like inappropriate men.  I like men who are a little too good looking, or a little bit of an asshole, or are in my friend circles.  I find something wrong with every man  who actually likes me or I self-destruct.  I just hear the voices of every guy that has ever said anything negative about me playing over and over again in my head.  If I was fat 20lbs ago, why would anyone want me now?  I used to use sex to try to prove to myself that I was desirable, but now that I am not getting laid, I just feel worse.  It’s kind of like another Amy Schumer skit “Last F***able Day”.  Have I, at 28, seen my last Fuckable day?  Am I no longer desirable to men?  I remind myself that I want so much more than sex, I want someone who will actually love and respect me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be wanted.  

The last guy I liked, and I did, I really liked him - I still like him -  I walked away from because I knew it would never work.  He doesn’t have his shit together; he may never have his shit together.  He wanted a hookup buddy, and I want a boyfriend.  He wore cargo shorts and is younger than me, things I could have overlooked if I thought there really was potential for us to be something.  I know he isn’t what I ultimately want, and that is why I put a stop to it before I got in too deep.  I have not relapsed with him; I have stayed strong.  But there is that voice, the one that says well, at least he wanted you, that just comes up every time I am a little drunk and very very lonely.  

I am lonely.  I know I shouldn’t be, but I am.  How do you stop being lonely?  I have amazing friends who I talk to all the time and am content with my companionship, but there is a different type of lonely.  I am not talking about being horny either.  I am talking about when you just have a shit day, and all you really want is to curl up on the couch with someone while they stroke your hair and tell you everything is ok.  I am talking about when you are nervous about walking in a crowded room so they place their hand on the small of your back.  Or when they can tell something has upset you so they squeeze your hand to remind you that they are there.  I also want the opportunity to be that person for someone, to support someone in the way that only a significant other really can.    

I believe you should be a complete person all on your own, but there can be that person who complements you perfectly, who brings out the best in you.  I sure know that I have found several people who have brought out the worst in me over the years, and I have seen some of my friends find that much desired balanced relationship.  But there is a part of me that has hardened, that is beginning to believe that maybe, just maybe, I am the kind of person who ends up alone.  In a dating world where it is so easy to just keep swiping instead of exploring the potential of someone, how do you really find love?  

Is my lack of love because I spent too much time partying and hooking up, sometimes just to prove that I could.  Did this high school prude become overly sexual to the point of forever loneliness?  Although I feel like I have really gotten my life together, not settling for less than the relationship I really want, and not hooking up with some guy out of need for validation, am I still a train wreck?  Deep down am I still one drunken hookup away from self-destructing?  Can you be too damaged to find real love?         

Amy Schumer’s character found someone she wanted to try with, like every rom-com, ending up with the guy.  Can you be a recovered trainwreck and still end up alone?  

Roller Coaster of Emotions (The Sequel)

Last week was a whirlwind, a roller coaster of emotions*, if you will.  After a birthday party to end all parties on Saturday, I found myself in kind of lackluster mood.  I don’t really know how to describe it.  It was like I knew my actual birthDAY would not be able to live up to my party.  At the same time, I knew that was the point of the epic birthday party, to go all out - because my birthday was in the middle of the week.  

When the day rolled around, I was swamped at work, and 5pm could not get here any faster.  I had dinner reservations at Cava Mezze, one of my favorite place in DC.  There were 8 of us, and dinner was so much fun! We talked about TV, dating apps, and everything else under the sun.  I then went with Chloe to Meg’s house so we could watch Pretty Little Liars and The Vineyard (So obsessed, reason why to come in a different post).  It was great just spending time with my amazing friends!  

I once again was pushing my twitter campaign to have Rob Lowe wish me happy birthday.  Again this year, it did not work out, but my favorite Good Morning America anchor, Josh Elliott, came to my rescue again this year.  Thank you, Josh, for making my birthday so much more special!   

The real shocker of the week was my run in with Liam (See The Many Loves of my Life).  Well, if you can call seeing him at a bar and walking in the other direction as running into someone, then that is what happened.  I was at a place downtown that I never go.  Katie and I were there for a going away party for one of the boys, Mac, who is leaving for Officer Candidate School.  Of course, Mac is incredibly late for his own party.  I had just ordered a drink, was turning away from the bar to talk to Katie, and right over my shoulder I found Liam’s roommate Michael.  I used to really get along with Michael back in the day, so I felt the need to say hi, not even thinking that it probably meant Liam was also there.  Sure enough while we are exchanging pleasantries I see Liam from over his shoulder.  I kind of freeze and instead of saying hi to him, I tell Michael it was good to see him and walk away.  

I felt like I had just seen a ghost.  I had forgotten how tall he is, and I immediately regretted not having heels on.  I was so glad the loud music covered the booming coming from my chest.  I needed to breathe, and find a way to go say hello.  I had thought about this for months now, ever since I saw him at the metro.  I just knew we would rekindle our friendship if we just ran into each other.  Except the shock of seeing him again made it feel like friendship is not an option.  I don’t know how to talk to him anymore, or if he even wants to talk to me.  When he left 2 years ago I gave him a note that said, among other things, that I would always be there for him if he ever wanted my friendship again.  He hasn’t.  

When I finally got the nerve to go say hello, he was gone.  I missed my opportunity.  A gchat or email will never have the warmth needed to help choose to give someone another chance.  Looking someone in the eye and trying to remember why you were even mad in the first place, that is how you realize you're over something.  I walked away from my chance to get over him, or to be forgiven for whatever grave offense he believes I committed so many years ago.  

In many ways I am glad it happened this way.  For two years I have been holding on to a glimmer of hope that one day he might love me.  Months ago, when I spotted him at the metro, I feared that we might always be strangers in a crowd, now I know we are.  It is a painful reality.  I had hoped that seeing me might remind him of the amazing times we had as friends.  

My mother likes to say that Liam is a flawed man, but surprisingly, I don’t see it that way.  Although he shut me out, I know that Liam is a good man.  Good men are hard to find, and that is why knowing once and for all that our story has come to an end is so painful.  It hurts to have a good man choose to walk away, choose not to talk to you, and choose life without you.

Although this hurt, hurts, I still feel blessed!  As depressed as I got about turning a year older, I came out of it with a few very important truths about myself.  I am absolutely blessed with wonderful, caring friends who make me laugh, are there to talk, wipe my tears, and know when a cocktail is needed.  These people that fill my life are my family, and like family they love me for all of my quirks.  Also, I remembered the most important part, I am who I am and I love me for it.  My thighs will probably always rub together when I walk, and my arm may always wave back at me, but that is okay.  I do not need to change me to please other people.  The man that I am meant to be with with will love me exactly how I am.      

As you can see, last week I came full circle.  I know I am not always the most upbeat person, and on this blog I am very honest, and self-deprecating.  I do want all of you to know that I may not always be comfortable in my own skin, but I am getting there.  Thank you for taking this journey with me, and being apart of one of my many blessings.  

*Roller Coaster of Emotions(The Original)

Strangers Now?

It is amazing how someone who has long since been gone out of your life can still take your breath away.  It has been almost 2 years since I have had a real conversation with Liam (see The Many Loves of My Life ) and a over a year since I have even seen his face.  Yet, when I saw him ride past me on the escalator of the metro, my heart stopped.  I wasn’t even sure if he still lived in DC until that very moment - when time seemed to stand still.  

He didn’t see me.  I am not sure he would have talked to me had he seen me.  I had started to forget how much I loved him.  It had been months since I had even thought about him.  But all it took was 5 seconds, just a glance, and everything came flooding back.  I don’t know that anyone else has ever looked at me the way he used to.  His crystal blue eyes had a way of telling me his every thought, especially when he thought I looked pretty.  I have never felt more beautiful in my whole life than when that tall, kind, stunningly handsome man told me how pretty I looked, because his eyes always told me that he meant it.  It is hard to realize you are just another face in the crowd to someone who used to be the only person who really saw you.  

As I stepped off the escalator and made my way home, I was so flustered I could barely eat dinner.  My hands were shaking, and all my friends were off playing softball on the many fields scattered across the Mall.  I went to the bar, hoping a cocktail would clear Liam from my mind.  One cocktail led to two, and after two who was still counting?  I became a huge flirt (what’s new?) and just needed  to be seen.  I needed someone I wanted to pay attention to me.  As I flirted my way through several of my mini crushes at our regular bar, I felt myself start to settle back into myself.  My life is great.  I am great without Liam.  

When a boy I have grown quite fond of got really flirty by the jukebox, I naturally flirted back, even though I shouldn’t have.  He is roommates with one of my best friends.  I am over at his house ALL the time, yet that didn’t stop me.  The brush of his arm against mine, his hand on my waist - it was intoxicating, and I was already intoxicated.  When I said I was going home, he insisted on walking me.  I like to be walked home when I think the boy has romantic intentions.  I was dying to be kissed.  Valentine’s Day was a long time ago, and, after seeing, Liam I needed to feel something, anything but missing him.  He kissed me, a sweet gentle kiss.  We kept kissing for what seemed like an hour by the back door to my building.  

It was sweet, and I didn’t really want it to stop.  It wasn’t hot though.  I want a hot, passionate, a little rough, can’t-breathe-without-you kind of kiss.  I want a weak-in-the-knees, you-will-never-think-of-kissing-anyone-else-kind of kiss.  

I want too much.  I want what I can’t have.  I am all in knots.  If just passing Liam on the metro can make me this big of a mess, I don’t even want to know what having a conversation with him would do.  Maybe I will never find out.  It has been so long already, maybe our lives will never cross paths again.  We are probably just supposed to be faces in the crowd to one another, a distant memory of what once was.  

Goodbye Forever

I once wrote that with D, it wasn’t goodbye forever, just goodbye for now.  That may have been the case then, but is certainly is not the case now.  The time has finally come, the limit has been reached, and I can’t keep holding onto something that was never really there.

The reality is he went back to his girlfriend.  He went back to her and never told me, leaving me to keep hoping that one day, we would end up together.  Every time we would talk and I asked how life was, he never once told me they were together again.  It was as if he wanted to lead me on, to continue to receive my flirty attention.  I had to see on Facebook that they were still “in a relationship” and then to ask one of his friends if they got back together.  I knew the answer when I asked the question, but I needed it to be confirmed, I needed to hear someone say it.  

I wanted to cry, to throw up, but I was at work.  I had 4 hours left in the day and I had to hold it together as best I could.  I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t throw up, and I couldn’t drink, so I did the only other thing left.  I ate.  I went to the cafe downstairs and got greasy, nasty, super bad-for-me food, and I ate my feelings, even though I still felt sick to my stomach.  Focus on the french fries, focus on the ketchup, don’t focus on the fact that he lied to me.  A lie of omission, but a lie nonetheless.  

He is a selfish son of a bitch who was too much of a coward to tell me the truth, to tell me that he doesn’t want me, that I will never be able to be her.  We can’t be friends after this, not that we ever really were.  I told myself I got a few days, a few days to cry and be sad and learn how to breathe again.  Because, in that moment, it felt like a elephant was sitting on my chest, holding me down, causing this uncontrollable pain yet intense emptiness.

I somehow made it to 5pm with the anticipation of drinking wine until I threw up.  Chloe and Meg were coming over, so I did a frantic clean-up of my apartment, which held off my break down.  As I threw the 10 pairs of shoes I had collected from around my apartment into my closet, I lost it.  My back found the wall and the deep heaving sobs came rushing over me.  Between the rattles in my chest, I couldn’t hold back the “Why?s” and the “How could he?s”.  I once again found myself absolutely torn apart by a man, no not a man - a boy, who didn’t deserve my tears.   

I thought he was a good man, an honest man.  I thought that his intentions were never to hurt me.  I saw a kindness in him, a warmth that I had never seen in a man before.  Now, I think I saw what I wanted to see.  I built him up to be someone so much better that he really is, than he ever can be.  I stood up for him and risked friendships for him, and at the end of the day, he couldn't even tell me the truth.  But what was I expecting?  He lied to me when we first met, when he kissed me before he told me about his girlfriend.  I was too quick to forget that.        

I don’t know his reasons, and at this point they are mute.  He gave up his opportunity to tell me, to explain.  I don’t need to hear that she is the love of his life, or they have been together so long that he owes it to her to try.  Maybe she has decided to move to DC and make that sacrifice for him.  Or maybe, just maybe, he is going to move to be with her.  That would be the best thing that could ever happen to me.  If he left, and I never saw him again, then maybe I could heal.  

The part of me that still loves him hates the idea of never see him again, hates that this really is the end of what I thought could have been my great romance.  The much larger part of me that hates him can’t imagine seeing his face right now, can’t imagine not yelling at him if I did.  Then there is the small part of me that actually has found some reason.  This part of me knows not seeing him is the only way I will ever truly move on.  After a year and half of falling for him, falling deeper into a web of unrequited love, I am ready to come up for air.  

D will probably never read this, even though he has every opportunity to do so, just like he had every opportunity to tell me the truth.  Even though he will never read this I am going to take this opportunity to say goodbye.  

D,

This is really goodbye, no pleas that we are supposed to be friends can keep me this time.  Friends don’t lie to each other.  Friends don’t make each other feel like this.  I don’t regret loving you, some might say I should, but I don’t.  Every person you love teaches you something, helps you become who you are meant to be.  I wish you could have loved me back, again, I know I shouldn’t, but I really do.  I wish with all of my heart that you could have loved me, could have wanted more with me.  I want you to be happy, but much more than that, I want to be happy!  I deserve people in my life that contribute to my happiness, and that isn’t you.  I don’t need you, and one day soon I won’t want you anymore either.  One day you will be a distant memory, and I hope for that day with all of my being.  But, for now, I will have to settle for saying goodbye to you forever.  ~ H

      

Happy Blog Anniversary!

A year ago, I started this blog looking for an outlet, a safe place to write.  Most of the time it has been just that, my safe haven from the sad reality that is often my personal life.  I have told you about my heartaches and my sexscapades, my insecurities and my triophant moments.  

So for those of you just joining us, let me reintroduce myself.  My name is Harper, and I am a 25 year old southern transplant living in the Nation’s Capital.  I am a curvy blonde with a love for Zumba and a true disdain for diets, even though I am always on one.    I have a wonderful job that I love, that challenges me, and where I can see a bright future.  I live in a studio apartment the size of a shoebox in a great location, but it is my shoe box and my sanity is worth ever overpriced penny.  My love life is always in some state of disarray and currently I am nursing a freshly broken heart.  

I have found myself at several cross roads over the past year.  After losing my job, I had to decide what career path I wanted to take, and really whether or not I would stay in DC.  Staying here was an easy decision, my life is here now.  The career path that ended up laying itself out in front of me could not be more perfect.  It combines all my passions and talents.  It is as if every shitty thing I went though at my old job was to prepare me for this, to help me appreciate it when work is good.   

I chose to move out of my fabulous 2 bedroom apartment with a private rooftop to live alone in a studio.  I wasn’t scared of being lonely anymore, because I had learned over the 2 years prior just because you weren’t physically alone didn’t mean you couldn’t be lonely.  It was worse to live in an apartment with someone who didn’t even like you than to be all alone.  

I have had ups and downs with friendships that I thought were unshakeable.  I barely speak to some people who I thought would be bridesmaids in my wedding someday.  I have met new people who feel like they have been a part of my life forever, and rekindled friendships with people who actually have.  Friendship is a tricky thing, and each one is very different and with it’s own limits.  I still battle with knowing when to hold on and when to let go.   

I also chose to give my heart to someone who didn’t deserve it, who didn’t want it in the first place.  I told someone that I loved him, and I know now, even though I should have always known, that he will never love me back.  Just because I should have known doesn’t make it hurt any less.  It was my choice to put myself out there, my choice to ignore my friends’ concerns, because I thought I knew him better than they did, I thought it was worth the risk.  Maybe it was.  Now, I don’t have to wonder, if I would have put myself out there, would he have chosen me.  I don’t have any regrets.  Does it hurt like hell? Yes.  Do I wish I could have avoided that? Of course.  But do I regret loving him? I can’t - I shouldn’t, and I won’t.  Love is even trickier than friendship and is completely nonsensical.  

I believe we learn something from every person that comes in and out of our lives.  Even if that lesson is some people are just complete assholes.  Each person helps mold you a little, helps you grow into who you are supposed to be.  We just have to look for the lesson.  For me, writing this blog has helped me find those lessons, helped me sort out the craziness that is my life.        

So who am I? I am a semi-disaster of a woman with a great job, awesome apartment, and a broken heart.  Why should you keep reading?  Disaster will ensue - hilarious, relatable disaster.  It always does.    

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.  

Change is Found in What doesn't Happen too ...

I know I have been MIA so far in 2013.  Life is moving, but I don’t feel like anything is really happening.  That isn’t really true though.  I got promoted to full-time at work.  I literally just got the most perfect job that ever could have been created for me, yet it just didn’t seem like the exciting event that it should have been.  I have begun to realize that it is sometimes not the things that happen, but the things that don’t happen that mean nothing will ever be the same.  

When I started this blog I told all of you about my wonderful group of friends, and how we would send each other hundreds of emails a day.  These girls that I used not be able to go an hour without knowing what they were doing/ thinking/ feeling now don’t email at all.  As we have grown up in the past year, some where along the way we grew apart.  Somehow, it isn’t that they grew apart, but I find myself on the outside.  I don’t know how to put into words how this makes me feel.  I feel inadequate, for a lack of a better word.  This group of girls made me feel, for the first time in my whole, life like I had a real place - like I fit.  Now I feel more like an outsider than I ever have before.  It seems like one part of my life comes together just for another one to fall apart.  

Through this, I have gotten closer to some of my other friends though.  I have more time to spend with Elle and Lisa, who are two of the first people I ever met in DC.  No matter how long it is between the times we hang out, over the years, these girls are always there to pick me up when I am down.  Katie and I have also gotten closer over the past few months.  I may cringe when she says I am like her big sister (only because I try to pretend we are the same age), but I feel a responsibility to look out for her.  I want her to learn from my mistakes.

The one thing I want to write about the most is the one thing I can’t.  You see, I made the decision to give someone the link to the blog, and that means I can’t write anything I wouldn’t want them to read.  Unfortunately, for you readers, that eliminates a lot of things these days.  I will say this, being a friend to someone can sometimes be complicated.  Sometimes your olive branches are taken wrong, and sometimes they just don’t really want your friendship.  When do you decide to give up on someone?  When do the unlimited chances run out?  Because the truth is, even the most forgiving people have their limits, their breaking point.  

I guess my theme of 2013 so far is, when do you fight and when do you let go?  When do you put yourself before needing someone else?  At what point does sacrifice become masochistic?  

I will do my best to post more.  The truth is, everything is better when I write about it.  Although I am not telling you everything, I will give you the song that is my track of the moment.  Maybe it will give y’all a little insight.    Everything Has Changed - Taylor Swift

The Truth Hurts

I might have just fucked up my life.  I never thought I would say it in words, but I did.  I just told a boy with a girlfriend that I loved him, and I just fucked my life up.  

I don’t know how to move on from this.  I don’t know how to love another, but at the end of the day, I loved him.  I lost my job 2 weeks ago.  I thought I would recover, but instead I fell apart.  Everything seems to be falling apart.

I am so lost after telling the truth, and I never thought about what I would say afterwards.  All I had to do was keep pretending, and I couldn’t.  Why couldn’t I keep pretending?    

I would rather lay on top of the covers and feel the cold that my heart is also feeling.  I am breaking again.  I know it wasn’t right of me to say it.  I know he made his choice months ago, a year ago, but my heart never walked away.  No matter how much I told it to, no matter how much my head ventured away, my heart stayed with the situation that could never make it happy, a boy with a girlfriend.  

I didn’t love him when he kissed me.  I didn’t love him in February when he got jealous and told me so.  I can not pinpoint the moment that I started loving him, but somewhere along the way I let myself fall.  I realized it for the first time when I thought he was single in July, when I thought I may actually have a shot to see how he really feels about me.

I never meant to say it out loud.  It’s all a little hazy.  I don’t even know exactly what I said; I just know I shouldn’t have said it.  I didn’t want to lose him in my life and that is exactly what I just did.  He wants to make our friendship work, but at the end of the day, I don’t know if it ever can.  The not-so-simple truth is I do love him.  I want to stop. I need to stop.  Someone tell me how to stop.  

If I could tell him one more thing, it would be that I am so sorry!  I am so sorry that I said those words.  I wish I could take them back.  I wish I could take it all back! I wish we could start all over from the beginning.

The Many Loves of My Life ...

While watching an episode of a bad 90s WB show, one of the characters posed a question that really got me thinking.  The question was, “How many times have you been in love?”.  My wheels started to turn.  For me, that is not an easy question to answer.  There are several people I thought I loved at the time, and maybe I did, but looking back, I am not sure it was really love.  For the sake of an entertaining blog post, I have decided to share with you the many boys I have loved.  

Daniel: The High School Boyfriend
Daniel was my first, and actually only, boyfriend.  We dated for two years.  I was a 15 year-old freshman, and he was a junior from a different school.  I will never forget how his shaggy hair flipped out from under his baseball cap and how hot I thought I was in my no-pocket jeans the night we met.  His goofy smile made me giddy, and I lived for the moments we would dance in the moonlight next to his pickup truck.  I wish I could remember the first time we said “I Love you”, especially since he was the first boy to whom I had ever said the words.  Spring of his senior year, things began to fall apart.  The thought of him at college and me tying him to our small town was overwhelming.  I broke my first love’s heart while sitting in my childhood living room on a Wednesday afternoon.  Maybe that is why every other person I have ever loved has broken mine.

You never really stop loving the first person you give your heart to.  Post-college I had the opportunity to fall in love with my first love all over again.  Daniel and I talked all through college, but when I graduated it became more frequent.  I got to know the man he had become and I loved everything about him.  When I told him how I felt, my move to DC was looming.  I would have stayed for him, but he didn’t ask me to.  I got to feel what he felt when I broke his heart.  

Caleb: The Summer Romance turned Long Distance Whatever
Caleb was the first boy to ever tell me I was beautiful.  We met at church camp the summer before my freshman year of high school.  I was a camper, and he was an older lifeguard.  His clear blue eyes and swoopy blonde hair had me weak at the knees. After dancing with me at the farewell dance, we exchanged addresses and emails.  (This was before I had a cell phone.)  We would chat on AIM.  I started to date Daniel, so we talked less.  The following summer, Daniel and I had broken up, and I returned to camp to be a Counselor-in-Training.  After 2 flirtatious weeks of “giving us a shot”, Caleb ended things when I left camp.  We continued to talk, and flirt on and off for the rest of high school.  

Caleb and I were famous for our big fights.  Our mutual friends knew we were a train wreck together, but we couldn’t seem to stay away from each other.  There are very few people that I have encountered that could make me feel so euphoric and then so broken.  My freshman year of college, in the middle of a tornado watch, I drove to spend the night with him.  I finally got to kiss that first boy that called me beautiful.  Everything about it was wrong; it felt so cheap.  After what seemed like real romance over the years, it just ended when I drove away.  I thought I loved Caleb, and I think that I did in the way that an unjaded heart can.  Caleb and I were the definition of complicated, and he was the beginning of my vicious pattern.  

Bryan: The “I Love You” Friend
My first week of college, I was out with the girls from my dorm, and an older boy bought us drinks.  That older boy got my number and invited me to a party at his house.  Bryan’s blue eyes and charming ways were two of the main reasons he was the first boy I kissed in college.  He quickly decided that one of my dorm friends was more his style but insisted on us staying friends.  She didn’t last in either of our lives.  Bryan lived with a group of boys that became family to me.  I slept on their couch after parties, or sometimes they would even give up their beds.  Every crisis that came up, Bryan was my shoulder to cry on.  My feelings for him were constantly changing.  I would think I had things figured out - know our friendship was the most important thing - and he would get drunk and get jealous.  We would have these heart-wrenching fights that he would not remember the next day, but I would be stuck with the battle wounds.  

The first party after Christmas break, I said something, that in the few seconds before his response, I thought would ruin everything.  When “I love you” slipped out, I never expected him to say “I love you too”, but he did.  That was not the last time.  He started ending our phone conversations by telling me he loved me, and I would say it back.  When he would screw up, he thought “I Love you” was a get out of jail free card.  I convinced myself our love for each other was the same, and that denial was a heavy burden.

When I told him I was in love with him a year and a half later, I couldn’t believe that he was shocked.  The fight we had that night had atomic bomb level destruction.   I was tired of him saying he wanted a girl just like me when he could just have me. Or when he was jealous, and said that I was one of the coolest girls he knew, but I just wasn’t “dating material”.  His promise that this wouldn’t ruin us, and that we would talk about it sober were lies.  I always knew that we were never meant to be together, but I couldn’t help the fact that I loved him.The night I told Bryan I was in love with him was the last real conversation we have ever had.  My belief that we would figure things out and he would always be a part of my life was false.       

Adam: The Friend with Emotional Benefits
The day that the rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed cutie sat on my row in my Comparative Politics class, I could not contain myself.  The fact that we did a class project by rows that day was like a gift from the gods.  I was outwardly determined to stay friends with Adam, regardless of how attracted to him I was, but internally, of course, I hoped he would fall for me.  I don’t remember why we started texting and calling each other, probably something to do with class.  When I asked him to Halloween date party, I said it was as just friends.  I gave him a set of 5 rules, 2 of which were: Don’t try to kiss me and Do not fall in love with me.  We drank and danced, and were both hot messes when we got off the bus.  I was determined to go to a frat party across campus, so he walked me there.  After his attempts to hold my hand, I told him he didn’t care about me, and I knew he would rather be there with my best friend.  I will never forget sitting on the steps of the English department and his answer: “If I didn’t care about you, we would be in my car on the way to my place.  If I wanted to be with Bee, then I would be sitting next to her.”  He wiped my drunken tears and as we got up and started walking he stopped and kissed me. This kiss was brief and very hazy; I even pretended not to remember it.  I think that was the biggest mistake I have ever made.  

After that date party, we began texting and calling almost daily.  I would pick his drunk ass up from the bar on a Tuesday, and he would tell me how much his sisters would love me.  We liked all the same things and even stayed up watching election results together.  Emotionally, we were dependent on each other, but were never physical.  We had plans to visit each other over the Christmas holidays, and my dad even got him a ticket to go to a professional football game with my family.  I felt like I had met the person that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with.  Looking at him, I could see our future and I wanted nothing more in the world.  

Christmas formal rolled around, and Adam agreed to be my date, even though he had an offer to go to the SEC Football Championship.  I just knew that this was going to be the night that changed everything, and it was.  We were sitting in a booth taking a break from dancing, when a sorority sister said “Y’all are such a cute couple.”  He told her we were just friends.  I looked at him and said, “Are we really ‘just friends’?”, and his answer was like a million daggers to my heart.  “Yes, we are just friends.  I only want to be friends.”  It was if someone had ripped my chest open and removed a part of me.  I couldn’t breathe.  The rest of that night is a blur of tears, strong drinks, and more pain than I care to share.  

We tried to be friends after that, but Adam was a constant contradiction.  In hindsight, I think he was trying to disappoint me.  Being me, I laid it all on the line, in writing.  I pointed out all the things he did that screamed the opposite of “just friends”, and I left our future up to him.  It was 46 days from that email to the day I ran into him on campus.  He later told me that he didn’t know how to express his feelings, to put it on the line the way I did.  He didn’t regret anything about the time he spent with me, but he did regret hurting me.  When you think you have met the love of your life, and they chose not to love you back, it forms a hole inside of you - one that you never know if you can ever fill again.  

Liam: The Forbidden Co-Worker
A week after I started my first real-world job, my first batch of interns started.  In that batch, there was one boy, a beautiful, well dressed, blond boy with kind blue eyes.  Liam had a smile that could light up the whole world.  We quickly became friends, g-chatting and grabbing drinks after work.  He would do the sweetest things for me, like surprise me with a milkshake when I was having a bad day.  I knew, as long as he was my intern, nothing could ever happen, AND he had just been through a terrible breakup.  He would listen to me vent about things in the office, and I would give him advice on how to deal with his ex.  I was falling head over heels for him, but I just knew there was no way he reciprocated those feelings.  When my parents came to town, he talked to them while they waited for me and told them he knew that we would always be a part of each other’s lives.  With every conversation, every sweet comment, every time he told me I looked pretty, I slipped deeper into the black hole that is unrequited love.  

One night, we were out with a big group of friends, and his roommate said something that I wish I could go back and un-hear.  He told me that Liam really cared about me.  I replied that I knew that he valued our friendship.  Michael said, “No Harper, he really cares about you.  He doesn’t need as much time to move on as you think.  Don’t wait forever.”  I let that give me a glimmer of hope that one day, when we didn’t work together, things would be different.  After a trip to the Kentucky Derby with a big group of our friends, I realized I would never live up to his ex.  Even if the way he looked at me made my heart melt, or the fact that he wanted to know my opinion on everything, made me weak.  Being friends meant he would always be in my life.    

I think back on all the girls I encouraged him to take on dates.  Forcing myself to suppress my feelings and acting as just his friend was my inner turmoil.  I told myself that having him as a friend was better than losing him.  Yet, I lost him anyway.  He shut me out, leaving me to sit in an office with him everyday and not know his thoughts.  It felt like a thousand needles being shoved into my heart slowly, over and over again.  I still don’t know why he stopped talking to me, and I have asked him more times than I can count.  Loving him was one of the most painful things I have ever endured.  Losing him nearly broke me beyond compare.  He has been gone from my office for over a year. I never see him.  I have done my best to move on, but I still wonder if someday he might love me too.  


I have loved more than some people will in a lifetime and felt pain that some will never know.  I have been very open with my heart, but the people I gave it to have been very reckless with it.  I don’t regret the fact that I have fallen hard and fast several times in my life.  I am a passionate person, and it is a very big part of what makes me me.  I do not love as easily as I once did, and that is likely a result of all the times I have loved, only to have my heart broken in return.  Every one of these boys taught me something about myself and about people.  I am stronger because of them.  One day the real, great love of my life will decide to show up, and when he does, I will realize that yes, I had loved, but there is no love like reciprocated love. 

Goodbye for Now ...

Sometimes goodbyes are forever, sometimes they are see you soon, and sometimes they are something a little more gray than that.  Last night D and I sat down sober for a frank conversation.  I went in planning to say goodbye forever but walked away with a goodbye until I am better.  

My friends made me feel like I had no choice but to shut D out completely.  Their intervention email felt more like an ultimatum.  It felt like I would loose them if I didn’t do what they thought was best.  Their method felt cold and like an attack, but I know it came from a good place, a place of love and concern.  At the end of the day I had to do what I felt comfortable with.  I know they didn’t think I should talk to D, but I couldn’t walk away without some answers.  If I did I would have always had what ifs and I would never have been able to get over my feelings for him.  I did what I had to do for me.  I hope one day they will understand that.  If not understand than at least respect my decision.

As we sat at the little table at Starbucks I didn’t know where to begin.  “Tell me about her” was the only place I could think to start.  As he described her his eyes lit up, the way I use to think they did when he saw me, but this was the real deal.  He really loves her.  It was in that moment that I knew I didn’t have to say goodbye forever.  I am not sure why that is the conclusion I came to, but it is one that I still feel good about.  The goodbye letter I had in my purse didn’t apply any more.

He answered every question, even the hard ones like had he ever cheated before.  The answer to that is no.  I was not some girl in a slew of other drunken mistakes.  I never thought he was that kind of guy, but I have been wrong before.  I know that this doesn’t make the fact that he cheated at all any better, but for me I just felt less cheap.

He took responsibility for his part in all of this, and so did I.  I was not an innocent party and I know that.  I understand his personality better, that he never meant to lead me on and by no means had malicious intentions.  He let me talk, let me bare my soul.  I think we both have a better understanding of each other and had our first real conversation as friends.  Our topics were varied and I let myself be open.  I saw why I have liked him so much, but I also saw why I think he might be right about being friends.

I had to make a decision.  I told him I would be staying away from our weekly social engagement that put us in the same place.  He said he knew that that time with my friends is so important to me and he hates for me to give that up.  Per his suggestion he is going to let me know the weeks that he won’t be there for as long as I need.  

D was very adamant the whole time that he really thought we could be friends.  I told him I just needed time to get my shit together.  I know in time my feelings will fade and what will be left is possibly a wonderful friendship.  Who knows, one day he could be that friend that I call for a guys opinion on a situation.  

My feelings for him, my attraction to him, is not going to fade overnight.  It may be a month or 6 months before I am really ok.  Though, I know I am in a much better place than I was in before we sat down and talked.  That was the hardest conversation I have ever had with someone, but I also feel like I just grew a lot because I was adult enough to have it.  

So, this is goodbye to D as all of you know him.  For me it is goodbye to D for now.  When I am ready, if I am ever ready, his friendship will be waiting for me. 

Quarter Life Crisis

I have quarter-of-a-century confusion.  The dreaded day when I truly become in my mid-twenties is just a week away.  My sense of life failure is starting to settle in.  Where I thought I would be at 25, and where I am are worlds apart.  I was supposed to be getting married to an incredible Southern gentleman, have an incredible job, and live in an incredible house.  Sadly, there are times when I feel that there is nothing incredible about my life, besides my incredible friends.

To be a single 25 year-old Southern woman is like being 40 living with 10 cats elsewhere in the country.  People start to wonder why no one seems to wants you.  You start to wonder yourself. I am a little lonely.  At 25 I was supposed to be waking up next to the person I love everyday, not my teddy bear.  (I have no shame in the fact that I still sleep with a Teddy bear.)

Sure, I am not married, or dating anyone.  Sure, my job is not what I thought it would be, and I am looking for a new one.  Sure, my rent is too high, but my apartment is pretty nice.  How could I know at 18 what I would want now?  It’s not that I don’t want all of the things I thought I would have, and just because I don’t have them at 25 doesn’t mean that I won’t find them eventually.  I know that.

There is one aspect that I wish I could change, one of which I am truly ashamed.  I am hung up on someone else's boyfriend.  When it comes to D, I hate that I cannot walk away.  The fact that seeing him makes my heart pound disgusts me.  Knowing that everyday I wish for his relationship to end pains me.  I am 25, and I still want this toy I can’t have.  Even though I know it’s not that black and white, I can’t help but fear that this is why I am alone.  This is why I am lonely.  I am not saying that I think he is the end-all-be-all, but I don’t know if I could ever find that person, if I still have the feelings for D that I have right now.

At 25, my heart was not supposed to break everyday.  

I know turning 25 is not the end of the world, and I should welcome my mid-twenties with grace.  I am sure my party is going to be a blast.  I love my birthday dress.  I have so many things to look forward to.  This year will be different for me, it has to be. 

Maybe ...

How do I find myself confused and caught up with Him, that boy I can’t shake.  Let’s call him D.  

He hugged me last night.  He initiated it.  I can’t remember the last time he touched me.  I think it was the night we danced, the night I pushed him away, the night I sent him home to call his girlfriend.  I didn’t lean into the hug.  I didn’t press my body against his the way I would with a boy I am flirting with.  It wasn’t tender.  It was if we were both scared to touch one another, like the world would end if we got too close.  

He really does care about me.  That was obvious last night, and it was as though he wanted me to know that.  I had already noticed that he always wants to make sure I get home safe.  One time he even gave money to a friend to put me in a cab.  I didn’t know it was him behind it, and his friend took the credit.  I’m unsure why, but it seems to change things.  I no longer second guess that he cares; I just am baffled by what it means.  

When he offered to drive me home this time, I didn’t see the harm.  Conversation was flowing and I didn’t want it to end.  I never know how long we will be on good terms, and am always frightened that he will shut me out.  He remembered where I lived even though he had only been there twice, and hadn’t since before Christmas.  Maybe I am seeing something where there is nothing.  Maybe none of it means a thing.  He let me know he made it home safe like I asked, but now I have his number again.  I don’t know if I am ready for that responsibility, that temptation. Too late.  If I delete it again, I know he will be hurt.  He was hurt the first time.  Here's hoping that the “Do Not Drunk Text” before his name in my phone will help this time.  

I wish I could say our conversation ended with him letting me know he was home, but it didn’t.  We were very sarcastic and it made me laugh.  I accidentally sent him a message meant for Skylar, a pep talk about not settling and holding out for the spark.  I was telling her she is an amazing woman.  I immediately realized my mistake and apologized, but that started the convo back up again.  He said that pep talks are always welcome.  I told him that I would have given him a different one.  He said a different quote might be better, but he isn’t picky.  So I gave it a shot: You are a kind person, you are smart, you are hard working, and you deserve all the good life will bring you.  

This is where it gets interesting …

D: That is better for you than me!
Me: I don’t know.  I think it fits you pretty well. You don’t have to be as kind as you are to me.  I don’t always make it easy on you and I know that.  I am sorry for that.
D: Yes I do … I was an ass a while back … You don’t need to apologize.
Me: People make mistakes.  It is what it is.
D: You are kind to say that.
Me: You aren’t a jerk, you are a good guy.  She is a very lucky girl to have someone like you.  I really mean that.  

That was it.  

Maybe I was his mistake, but I don’t think that the mistake was getting to know me, it was kissing me.  Maybe he is just trying to make up for his indiscretions. Maybe the way he cares about me is wrong.  But is it?  Can’t you care about the well being of someone of the opposite sex without wanted to get in their pants? Maybe it is different because we have been physical before.  Maybe it is different because I still look at him and long for his touch.  Maybe you can never recover from circumstances like the ones that we got to know each other under.  Maybe, just maybe, we are not supposed to be a part of each others lives.