a small remnant; any small quantity.

it all seems minuscule and yet so monumental- all at once.

i was looking at my toes peeking out from my peep toe heels, thinking about nothing important- needing a pedicure, or another pair of shoes equally as comfortable. i was nervously playing with my own hands, the way i always do when i’m avoiding eye contact. i was confessing something quite serious and the words sort of summer-saulted out out of my mouth before i could even stop them. i had literally verbally exploded and before i knew it, it was too late to retract anything i’d said.

maybe i’m selfish in thinking no one can grasp the pain i still allow myself to feel. i enable myself to hurt so much and let it get to me the way it does. and still- her response? she shrugged her shoulders. she dismissed my pain & loss like it was nothing. like i’d “get over it” when i’m mature enough to grasp the good i’d done. it seems stupid now, but it made me so angry to know someone else had been through a similar experience and felt nothing. how could you? how could you possibly feel nothing?

maybe i do this to myself on purpose.

i live alone, i mourn in silence, i feel sad when i go to sleep, and i feel inadequate when i wake up. i put hours and days of work into an apartment i already want to move out of, and i still hate calling this place home. there was a mouse once and i killed a spider a few hours ago, and the cupboards smell like old toast. no matter how many meals i cook, or hours i spend cleaning, or time i leave the windows open for fresh air… it still smells stale. it’s like some stupid metaphor for how fucking stagnant my life is, isn’t it?

i don’t know how i can play with the extremes of my lifestyles so seamlessly. strangers look at me in awe and wonder how the hell i stay so together, all the time. how i manage to be this responsible, independent business woman around the clock without losing my shit. but that’s the funniest part. i haven’t always been this way. they see the tight orange curls, the obsessively manicured nails, or the tailored suit jackets- and i’ve got them fooled. seven months ago i was ironically snorting drugs off an old book in my friend’s bed, i was drunk most days, and couch hopping. i had no energy to apartment hunt, i was thinking of ways to quit my job, and i was fooling myself into getting my “shit together”. in two months i’d drank away nearly $4,000… how is that even possible?

you see, that’s how i mourn loss. i self-destruct and i hit the snooze button until i’ve dug myself a hole so deep i can barely see the light. in the matter of seconds i’d lost my boyfriend, his family, a home, and my will to work. i had literally given up on everything and i was just waiting for a miracle.

i don’t remember what made me change my mind- but i did. i found a place to live, i put some money in the bank, and i finally quit my job. i had no real plan other than swim, because i’d been sinking for far too long. i fought hard to get the job i have now, and despite everything… i love it. i love the long hours, the hard work, and the stress of it all. i drink four coffees a day, i have no time to eat, and my boss is totally nuts, but i’ve found my niche- and against all odds… i’m good at it.

i don’t know what it is that keeps me writing about the past. i’m so consumed with immortalizing what is clearly dead- i’m consumed with what once was, and what will never be. i am so stuck on reliving the four worst years of my life, that it’s staggering my emotional growth. i have always been so fucking wrapped up in m and his stupid ability to control me, even years after i’ve left him. what is it about being broken that is so fucking easy?

i keep using all these horrible experiences as excuses to not get close- to not let anyone in. i figure if i don’t scare them away with all this baggage, then they’re too fucking crazy for me anyway. how funny is that? you know why my relationship with andy failed? because he knew i was afraid it was going to. granted, he’d met me two months after i’d left m and i was still petrified he’d find me, but that’s beside the point.

my emotions are unhealthy. i am unhealthy. and i need to get healthy if i’m about to let anyone in at this point. i have a big heart and my intentions lately have been mostly good… i need to move past this.

i’m just having a really, really hard time.


8 thoughts on “a small remnant; any small quantity.

  1. Maybe that’s why you write about it, so you can let all the emotions out here, without feeling rejected or like nobody cares. You have “friends” here. I know I care, and dont want you hurting so you need to do anything to let those emotions out, i’ll be here with open eyes and an open mind. I’m proud of you for getting a job you love! Not many people have that, or have the ability to say eff it and fight for something else. You’re strong. 🙂

    • you’re right, kaye… and i’m glad i have friends like you- even if it is only on the internet.

      i just can’t help but feel guilty; like i’ve said it all before, and my readers deserve more than this broken record, you know?

      i just need to stay positive.

  2. I have a theory that every woman in the world always has one man tucked away in the corner of their brain, the one that sits in your thoughts late at night and you think of reflexively when seeing another couple on the street etc. It could be your current boyfriend, or even an old one you still think about first when with a new one.

    I think M has been the one who has been this man for too long, merely because he has reached the furthest into your soul, whether for better of for worse. I don’t really have a solution to your situation but women I’ve told about my theory (and who have agreed!) often tell me it helps to work out why they fixate on certain people.

    I know this theory is counter-intuitive when coming from a woman who would be the first to stand up for feminism and independent female rights but I think it’s true!

    Hope you can get yourself feeling better.

    • woah…

      i completely agree with you- i think everyone has that one lover tucked in the back of their brain (for better, or for worse). i know exactly why i fixate on m, i just wish i could move past the pain and the memories.

      i write about him to help myself heal, but at the same time… it makes me relive everything like it happened yesterday. don’t get me wrong, it’s so much better than it used to be, and i have been able to love, and feel, and laugh, and be with other men… i just hate to have so many connections to m…. connections that have shaped me into who i am today; connections that won’t ever break.

      i was mostly venting, but i see your point!

      • That’s SO true. When I was married, I would always think about my current boyfriend (because I met him a couple of years before) especially around Halloween, because it was the first one we spent together. I know my situation (and i’m sorry but everytime i say the word situation I always do it in a Jersey accent, thank you MTV) wont turn out like yours will because that would just be toxic and I wouldn’t want that for you, i’m just agreeing with yeah there’s probably always someone in the back of your mind.

  3. kaye- i love you for your jersey shore reference!

    and it totally sucks, but george is completely right- and i know that, i just hate that i still feel so connected (yet so disconnected) to such a horrible person.

    sigh, life!

  4. oh hun…I wish I knew what to say here. 😦

    For what it’s worth, you ARE doing amazing. With everything you’ve been through, your personality still shines. There is a light in you that is so bright and you are full of such greatness and that sounds totally cheesy but you get where I’m going with this right?


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