In this episode, The Hurt One is overwhelmed with the feelings she worked so hard to get rid of after her heart was shattered almost a year ago. The Almost catches her off guard with a seemingly heartfelt and touching apology on the eve of her move. Hurt One is struck with all the reasons she wrongly fell in love with him in the first place. Almost was always so easy to talk too, so easy to look at and be a complete idiot with. So easy to drink with and cry on and go home too. After avoiding his gaze for so long, suddenly she looked into his eyes for what felt like the first time and her heart and stomach turn with the love she had buried before.

Thankfully, she is also reminded of why Almost was terrible in the first place. Quick to throw her love away when a seemingly more perfect suitor came into the picture. He never defended her when the Closeted Lesbian told mutual acquaintances her not so attractive past. Of course the main reason for this was his tough exterior and weak disposition which The One understood. Almost hated being told when he was wrong even when it hurt the One’s already incredibly fragile feelings. The One thought they could be each others shoulder to cry on, both weakened from past love. She was obviously mistaken as Almost ended up treating her so badly in the end.

If The Almost hadn’t of broken her heart, The One would’ve never toughened up. One had a problem with giving her all to people that weren’t worth it, always blinded by mushy feelings that weren’t always reciprocated back. If Almost hadn’t of destroyed her, she would be stuck in a city she hated and with friends that didn’t care about her. The experience changed her almost completely, and forced her to get her shit together. For that she would be forever thankful and unable to completely hate him no matter how hard she tries. She’s thankful he apologized and instead of leaving everything resolved but filled with animosity, the relationship officially ended with the peace offering of a donut. She knows that in another universe, if Almost and her met at a different moment, it would’ve probably been the beginning of a beautiful, almost perfect thing.

I hate you ever so, yet I can’t pull myself away.

Facebook is possibly the worst website I’ve ever had the trouble of being addicted too. Nothing about it is good except to “connect” which is absurd because nothing is better than face to face or even mouth to phone. All of the negative things I think about that terrible website has been said and my attitude towards it very common.

Whenever I got my heartbroken (all two times), I took to “deleting” my facebook and wallowing in my misery. As a twenty something, I was used to posting my entire life’s details on this dumb website and often being on it would just magnify the pain I was feeling. The first time, my whole facebook life had revolved around my long ass relationship so when shit hit the fan, it was my worst enemy. The second time around wasn’t as serious but the pain was just as bad. There was something so therapeutic and oddly holy about deactivating said website. Suddenly, I felt free like the world was in my hands. Nothing can stop you and you can do anything without the constraints of facebook; and it is the stupidest feeling in the world that your being was attached to one profile on a fucking website.

Facebook has taken over the world and it is poison. When people ask, “Do you have a facebook?” and you reply with a no, there’s this insane judgement that goes on. I know because I used to place judgement on those freaks with out effbook and now I have joined them.

Facebook stalking is the root of all of its evil and led to my multiple deactivations. It makes it easier to torture yourself with your destructive thoughts. “Look at how happy he is!” “She’s such a fug face,” “I hope they still like me after this,” and BLAH BLAH. Its the fuckin worst.

Yet of course, on the cusp of my move to my heart’s hometown I find myself creating another poisonous account on the devil’s website. NATURALLY, I stalk those I have no business stalking if I want to be the happy, carefree version of myself I have created in the last 7 months of my life.

All the painful, angry, destructive thoughts and feelings just rushed back to me. All because of the most addictive and pseudo pointless website created.

Ava Cherry is Cool.

Ava Cherry is a little known singer and dancer from the 70s. Her main claim to obscure fame was being David Bowie’s lovah during and after his relationship with Angie Bowie. She was a member of the Astronettes, the name of Bowie’s background singers along with the great and powerful Luther Vandross. Unfortunately, that’s about as far as she got having little to no chart success after she went out on her own. She caught my interest and has remained a fascination to me for the last few years.

Here she is stealing the spotlight on the Dick Cavett show with David Bowie. As you can see, the potential to be a huge star is there. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how the fame creature decides its prey.

Fantasies.

Fantasies are what keep me moving, I admit it.

I fantasize about my impending move back to the city I love and moving on up in life. Being the student I was meant to be, possibly moving up in my job. I think about what an amazing place i’ll end up once I graduate.

I go to sleep thinking about the great dude i’ll eventually meet and how when that happens I’ll hopefully be at the point in my life where my shit is almost fully together. I dream about caressing his face and cracking up late at night. I think about how easy it’ll be to be with him, how after we fight we kiss and make up. I imagine our first shitty apartment together, and how we’ll make it perfect with our dumb, cheesy love.

I dream about my babies that I eventually want to have, and how gorgeous and loved they’ll be. I think about talking to them about my life before them and them laughing at the stupid things I did. I think about their graduations, grandchildren…

Thinking about my future keeps me going. I know it won’t be exactly how I picture it, but I know it’ll be great no matter what, cause that’s life. Its a beautiful, wonderful, fucking shit fest.

The Plunge.

The circumstance is that I’m back in my mom’s house, but not for long. Soon I will be back to the grind and the terrifying wonderfulness of the city. So far, its been…hmm. Its hard to find the right words. Stressful it has not been. Irritating I think is best. Some things are much easier. For example, my mom and I have got a good rhythm about the kitchen. We take turns like normal people for chores. Also, she got internet for me which was nice. I’m a twenty something and we need our interwebs to function. However, the having a life thing is very difficult while I’m here. My mother is very dependent on me which is wrong on her part. I’m 22. I’m automatically a moron.

What’s been causing me the most stress is getting job. I’m planning on transferring with my current company, but its pretty much the same process as getting a brand spankin’ new job. It just becomes slightly easier to be noticed because my company is all about internal hirings. I’ve had issues with my current job but mostly because of individual people. Its kind of nerdy how much I love my company, actually. I don’t plan on leaving anytime soon. Anyway, I’ve spoken to a couple people and gotten an e-mail replay to my application which was sent to apparently a thousand other applicants. Now I’m waiting. Waiting is the most painful part of anything.

Waiting is good though. If you handle it correctly, you can rationalize things and calm yourself down. I tend to psyche myself up so much then the closer it gets, psyche myself down which hasn’t been working very well. I had two interviews this past year and I bombed both of them because of my nerves. I was so intimidated I couldn’t think and almost cried. That’s not gonna happen this time.

Real life is hard and there’s so many difficulties along the way. Hopefully, this one will be over soon.

This is a weird feeling.

I was relationship girl. I didn’t have any friends, only my boyfriend, for over 3 years.

Then we broke up. Then I fell for someone else, and he broke my heart. Then I fell FOR SOMEONE ELSE and HE of course broke my heart. Coincidently, they both had the same name. Different people though.

Anyway, the point is, here I am. I have absolutely no interest in ANYONE. I’m barely dating some guy but we’re both so goddamn busy and to be honest, I don’t even think I like him all that much.

Its really nice though to actually for real date someone. When I say “for real date” I mean, he picks me up or meet up somewhere, talk, get to know each other, and I don’t spend every free moment of my time talking to him or texting him or being with him.

In my old age, I find it more and more important to spend time alone. I used to only focus on mine and my boyfriend’s future and then when I was single and dating, I didn’t even think about myself. I was all consumed with the delicious mushy feelings of what I thought was love. Then after the horrible endings, I was filled with this insane, overwhelming feeling of deep despair and loneliness. It sounds like an over-exaggeration but that is exactly how it felt. Constant sadness and self pity. “Why am I not good enough?” “No one is ever going to love me the way I love,” and similar thoughts filled my head for weeks and months.

Until now. I don’t feel as lonely. I’m human so of course I’d like some companionship. However, I’m not thinking of who to date or where to meet guys and all that hoo-ha. I’m just living and being around…its very strange for me. I haven’t been this blasé since high school and Harry Potter was all that I thought about. Now, I don’t even have an obsession to keep me occupied.

Its an almost, empty feeling. Not in a horrible way though. Its just, what am I living for? Not that boys were my only interest, they just seemed to get in the way making me feel like poop and hurting my feelings.

Now I’m not even waiting, because when it happens its going to happen and nothing I do will alter it. IT’LL JUST BE.

Francoise Hardy is pretty.

I don’t speak a word of French yet her music can touch me in the same way any english speaking singer can. There’s just something about French singers: they can successfully cross the language barrier. Not only is this lady talented, she looked/looks fabulous as well.

Getting your shit together.

Its something that gets harder the older you get. Its ideal to get your shit together when you’re young and naive; before you actually experience the horror that is real life. As we all know, real life is not a Julia Roberts movie.

That was my plan initially. Growing up in a single parent home, I knew that real life was not all it was cracked out to be. Thankfully, my mom was kind enough to save me from seeing the extent of how shitty it could truly be. I was an insanely motivated teenager. I was going to be the next Tina Fey, living on the upper west side in a ridiculously tiny apartment “making it”. However, I have briefly lost my mind. Briefly, in the scheme of how long life is, but way too long in my mom’s and frankly my own eyes.

Well what had happened was, I unfortunately fell pray to this crazy little thing I thought was love…one and a half times. It claims the best of us, and ruins pretty much everyone’s life. In my case, I learned a very valuable and painful lesson: people are terrible and mean and will inevitably do whatever the fuck they want and you have just got to get over it and be amazing despite of all the nastiness in the world. Sure, watching Schindler’s List and the actual terrible things going on in the world should’ve alerted me of that fact, but until something horrible happens to YOU, you honestly can’t grasp how disgusting human-kind is. Once you do, you mourn at the loss of your childlike positivity and you gain a new kind of thinking. The adult in you wakes up. This being paired with being cut off from your mom and paying your own bills makes you grow up.

My 2012 was spent falling apart, my 2013 is going to be spend picking myself up and getting my shit together. Like I stated, of course its best to get your shit together when you’re young and naive. I’m still young so I’ve got that going. Now Naive? That ship has sailed, but in truth, you’re never really too old to get your shit together, cause you’re never to old to fall apart.

I will NOT be negative this year!

A lot of folks make these annual declarations of making themselves better. The issue with this is keeping up with them through the short, cold days of winter into the summer and onto the end of the year. I’m proud to say that I somewhat kept up with my only resolution from last year which was to learn how to ride a bike and start biking to work. I did, until I started working early mornings, and you know how 4am wakeup calls feel…they ain’t so nice.

I had the absolute worst year of my life and I can honestly say it made me even more bad ass than before. As a result of the past hell year, my resolution is to stay positive and be more motivated. I’ve been told I can be a negative Nancy, its a side effect of my low self esteem. My goal is by summers end is to move back to the city I love and to do that I gotta simma down nah and FOCUS! I’m gonna save my pennies and start the ball rolling ASAP. I’ve learned the months slip by quickly, so the sooner I push myself the better. That goes for everyone else too!

moving on

she sits in the corner staring and contemplating
never letting go, feeling the time slip away
and not caring one bit.
the heartbreaks of her past overcoming her mind.
one by one, repeating.
then suddenly its over.
the pain remains,
just not as before.
her eye lids meet.
closure.