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I dreamed I was in a park with you. A theme park of sorts. It was a huge, Disneyland meets New England, sort of park. It was the size of Boston. I lived in the park. You came to stay with me in the park. We shared a room (not having sex). We were getting to know each other again. Starting a new relationship. We met one afternoon in the park in the sunshine and talked. Loved each other. Had deep meaningful conversations with each other. Connected. Both of us were becoming fulfilled in this new relationship. The sun went down and we went to bed in our own beds, in the same room, not because we didn’t desire each other, but because we were waiting to grow into that.
Then over night, you involved her. I awoke and everything was different. You brought her into my room, in my park (since you didn’t live there, this is how I see it). You rented a double bed for the two of you in my room, and had the park staff deliver it. So when I awoke, there was my bed in the room, and the bed for the two of you. Now I felt invaded in my space.
I had to go to work. You were going to meet me in the sunshine once I was done and we could talk, love each other and continue to grow together. We were committed to this. We were looking forward to this. Excited about this. I tried to get there. Obstacle after obstacle got in my way. The trains weren’t going where I needed them to take me. I couldn’t walk fast enough because of my ankle. I kept getting lost. People told me the wrong way. Cabs took me to the wrong places. I couldn’t get through to you to ask you to wait. I could not get a message through to you. I couldn’t reach you. Finally, I received a message from you that was just one of those silly weatherman cartoon suns, but this one was angry, and fading.
Later, I looked at my phone and there was a message from you saying that you were not going to be able to make it. You told me that the sun was not going to be out. It had passed. You had waited as long as you could for me in the sunshine, but were now going to go and meet her at a bar. The sun had set. You had moved on. I was not welcome here. I had welcomed you into my room, my park, and then you brought her. Once you brought her, I was not even welcome in my own place.
I went back to my room, and the double bed that you had rented, and your bed that was originally there, were both gone. All that was in my room was my single bed, and darkness. The sun was gone. I was alone.
Then I woke up. The mind does interesting things with what is really going on.
So, it’s been six months or so (counting back to around Christmas) since the breakup. And guess what? I finally feel happy. Not just better. Not okay. Not over him, but happy. In fact, happier than I have been for as long as I can remember. And this is the real stuff–this time it isn’t because of love, or lurv, or lust, or anything involving a boy. This is because of me.
I do think that it took one final nail in the coffin to get over him, or really my dependence on another half in the broadest of terms. And what was that final nail? Well, it was a wedding. No, no, not mine.
Two of my bestest friends were married a few weeks ago. They have been my f0undation here in Boston. When they asked me to be a part of their wedding, I was thrilled, I had never been part of one before. And the fact that these were my friends, that liked me, that didn’t find me awkward or embarrassing helped a lot. And he had only met them once. These were MY friends. At the wedding, I met a lot of their friends from out West, and they liked me. They thought I was interesting, funny, and generally a good time to be around. I really, really needed that. I had it driven into my head for far too long that I was socially awkward and an embarrassment to be with in public. None of these awesome people seemed to think that.
So, I danced. I drank too much. I flirted with boys. I felt pretty. I curled my hair. I smiled a lot. I met people. I wore a lot of makeup. I had a flower in my hair. I was confident. I slept with someone else. I was hungover for days. I made friends. I did all of these things on my own, and was happy doing them, experiencing them with myself. I didn’t feel like I needed someone there to share these things with. It was enough that I was doing them. Oh how I’d forgotten the importance of I…
Elise and Anne, with Tim lurking in the background
