Goodbye, Hello: the Apartment Transition

As I sat in my studio apartment for the very last night, I was overwhelmed with emotion.  As ecstatic as I was for bedroom walls, a dishwasher, and a fireplace, there was a tinge of sadness.  That was the apartment where I feel like I finally became an adult.  I overcame my fear of living alone.  Living alone doesn’t have to mean you are lonely.  For three years that shoebox of an apartment became my sanctuary from the shitty days at work, the heartbreaks, and the missteps. I accepted jobs sitting in that room.  I kissed boys who I thought were right, and ones I knew were wrong in that room.  There were plenty of single girl Saturdays, wine nights, visits from friends that all took place in that small little room. Those 500 square feet made up my home; they brought me into adulthood.   

Now, weeks later, I sit in my new home that doesn’t quite feel mine yet, even though there are touches of me everywhere.  I am still figuring out where things should go and finding a routine.  This is a real adult apartment, with color on the walls, and more than one room.  It makes my tiny studio feel like it was a dorm room pretending to be an adult apartment.  I look around my new living room and think of all the things that will happen in this room.  What big life moments will this apartment witness?  How many times will my life change inside these walls?

It frightens me a little to think that this is the place where I will finish out my 20s.  As my 29th birthday slowly approaches I am having to reconcile the fact that some of my dreams for my 20s won’t come true.  It is hard to believe that I was the 20 year-old who dreamed of being 30, and now I dread it.  I said goodbye to the life plan I made in college at 25, but now I am having to accept that my hopes I made at 25 or 26 are now slipping away.  I accept the wins I have achieved.  I celebrate every raise, every time I do something fun that married friends couldn’t do with the same ease.  I am celebrating this apartment, but a little part of me knows that this is another home for one.  A space with no room for anyone else.  I fill up every nook and cranny.  I can’t visualize anyone else in the space with me.  Does that mean I have resolved to be alone?  Does that scare me or am I accepting my mother’s opinion that I have become too hard to share my life with someone else?  

I know I am supposed to be so happy sitting in this living room full of pretty new things, but part of me just sees what this place isn’t.  It is an adult’s home, not that of someone who does wild spontaneous things, but not that of someone with the responsibility of sharing their life with another human.  It is a home of someone somewhere in between.  Maybe I need to fill it with my friends for it finally feel like home, for me to feel the joy I am supposed to feel, to remind me of how full my life is.    

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?  

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.