Archive | January, 2015
17 Jan

I think–I think when it’s all over,
It just comes back in flashes, you know?
It’s like a kaleidoscope of memories.
It just all comes back. But he never does.
I think part of me knew the second I saw him that this would happen.
It’s not really anything he said or anything he did,
It was the feeling that came along with it.
And the crazy thing is I don’t know if I’m ever gonna feel that way again.
But I don’t know if I should.
I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright.
But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you?
Maybe he knew that when he saw me.
I guess I just lost my balance.
I think that the worst part of it all wasn’t losing him.
It was losing me. -Taylor Swift “I Knew You Were Trouble”


“You Seem to be Handling Things so Well!” : The Truth

15 Jan


Exactly a week ago I sat here, and I lost you. I’m in the same exact spot, except now my apartment is messy and it looks like a tornado hit it. Appropriate, I suppose, since it’s also the way I feel. A mix of new things have ended up on tables, couches, floors, and counters since- but it’s still there. The bag and sunglasses you got me that I love are on the sofa. You gave them to me as you came to let me go. How can I use them without thinking of you? I love them. I don’t want them. You insisted. The gift bag and tissue paper are on the floor. I’ve been looking at the bag and glasses on the couch next to me all week. For some reason today i noticed the tissue paper on the floor, it’s the first time I really looked at it, and that’s when it hit me, and I lost it. The tissue paper, the sleeping medicine wrapper from after, your t-shirt in my laundry room, the letter i wrote you 4 months ago. It’s all here. I meant to put it in a bag to give to you but never did it.

Tomorrow Maria Luisa will come and clean. There’s something awful about the idea of coming home to a place that looks unused. I used to enjoy it, because it was always right before the weekend, but I was always with you on the weekend. Clean apartment meant it was time to see you. To sleep with you. To wake up with you. Tomorrow, and from now on a clean apartment is just me. I have to live here without you. We never actually stayed over here, but now I do have to, and the loneliness of it all is killing me.

The girls say I seem to be doing really well. They say much beter than with B. B blindsided me and they were here for the intial few days. I didn’t love B. I was alone for 48 excrutiating hours for this with you. Nobody else was back yet.

I’ve been keeping busy- beach, work, friends, fitness classes…I was laying in bed today thinking “maybe I’m okay- not ready- but okay”. Then the power nap wasn’t enough and I skipped going to my yoga class just this one day…..and that’s when I walked into my living room and saw it there and was hit hard and fast with the devestating truth. I haven’t been handling things well- I haven’t been handling it all and sooner or later it will all hit me and I will REALLY lose it.

I unfollwed you on Facebook and Instagram. I avoid walking by your street when I come home. I deleted our Whatsapp conversation. Suddenly the most important person to me in this whole country is no longer mine. I no longer have access. I can’t see you or I’ll want to fall back into waking up with you- and I can’t handle that rejection. I can’t stand being demoted. Really, I lost access to you months ago, but it’s real now. There’s no bounce back this time. I wish I could be friends with you like you want, but I can’t see you that way again. I fell in love with that person. As soon as I start remembering that person I’m going to be torn apart again. My only hope is to keep you at a distance as someone who didn’t see me for more than 5 minutes after a month of being in different countries before breaking my heart.

I know we can never go back. It’s broken, I’m broken, but I don’t know how to go forward either. I want you to come over so I can tell you all about it, but you can’t help me.

I can’t get you out of my dreams either. Any spare moment for my mind is another trap, it wanders right to you. Nights and weekends, nights and weekends, those are my enemies now.


I don’t know how to do another year and a half without you by my side. Putting my life in order without you is awful. I already booked that resort trip for April and can’t cancel it. No trip, no cruise, no camping, no dog walks, no hikes, no sex, no How I Met Your Mother or Orange is the New Black marathons. No movie education, no gallo pinto on Saturnday mornings or stealing sips of your coffee. No more Cartago Sunday’s or business beach trips. No more gossip. No more falling asleep on your chest after an exhausting week. No more stupid jokes or movie quotes. No more singing in the kitchen or watching you do impressions. Nomore watching you stand naked in your room or rock paper scissoring to see who had to unpause the computer. No more cooking lessons or pizza creations or Whatsapp picture convos. No more pillow barriers or dengue jokes. No more ice cream with an absurd amount of whipped cream in bed.

I loved the way you used to calm me down. I loved the way you always made a joke out of things. I hated how you laughed when I cried because emotion made you uncomfortable. I hate that i cried even more. I hate that I made major decisions with you in mind because now I’m stuck with them and not you. I love how my injuries and general body messes didn’t freak you out. I hate how you stopped talking to me. I hate that I couldn’t reach you and that I had to try so hard. I hate that you stopped looking at me and being gentle. I loved how considerate you used to be. I loved how you loved my friends. I hate that we had our best moments with them, not alone. I loved the sex we had during the World Cup, in Nosara, after my surgery, and the last day of Thanksgiving break. I hate that you stopped touching me. I hate how I went home and got all new clothes, all excited that you’d have something fresh to see and some classier looks on your arm- and now I have things and not you. You never saw them. I hate that overall I wasn’t worth enough for you to want to make it work.

I hate that I thought I really was doing okay- but I’m not,

and you’re really gone.

How Did I Get Here Again?

15 Jan

It’s been a long time since i’ve been on here. Turns out I don’t tend to write when I’m happy- I just live. Judging by the fact that it’s been about 10 months since I’ve posted anything of my own I’ve been really happy for the last 10 months. As is the nature of most of what comes and goes regarding my need to write- this is again dealing with a relationship. Last April I mentioned that there was a great guy I’d met who kept me waiting for an answer, and had told me that we’d have to be just friends and not pursue a relationship because of complications. If you do the math between the time of that post and this, you could probably make an educated guess that we ended up dating shortly after. And it was fantastic- until it wasn’t anymore.


We had a great time together. We had a similar sense of humor, he was considerate, my friends loved him, I loved him, he stayed with me through my surgery and recovery period when I broke my heel (that worst of that whole process was a solid 3 months- and could not have been easy in a new relationship), and I finally put down my guard and stopped trying to act like the Stepford wife of girlfriends.

As it turns out, after the first few months he stopped seeming so interested. He didn’t even say or do things that made me think he was really into me. I knew he cared, but I didn’t feel WANTED anymore. I brought it up and he reiterated that if he didn’t want to be with me he would tell me and that he just wasn’t expressive. Then he had a funny little way of never admitting to things, but showing that he listened by making minor changes like communicating more- until he didn’t, again.

We had one huge blow up about 6 months into the relationship. He’d traveled to New York for business and friends. I hardly heard from him. His social apps all around showed constant activity. He never allowed pictures of us together to be tagged and up. There was a picture of him with a very attractive blonde up a few days later. I wanted to see him the day he got home. He wanted to wait til the weekend. I expressed that I was upset. We got into a fight. He stopped talking to me for days. I thought we sorted it out by talking. He didn’t. We almost broke up. I cried, he cried, we had wine. We had sex. We said sorry. We talked about change. We stayed together. Things got better.

Until they didn’t. Again.

I stopped expressing my feelings. Everything that wasn’t what he wanted or thought was right, that I fought against was an impending threat to an eventual break up. I just had to accept everything he said and did and still know that he cared about me without him expressing it. After all, isn’t that what trust and love is all about? He never told me he loved me. I never dared express it outloud.

Fast forward 4 months. I’m going home for Christmas, and had booked my flight home late so I could see him for a few days after work ended before i left for 3 weeks. He had to go early on a business trip, so I didn’t see him before I left. He didn’t contact me the day I was leaving to tell me he’d miss me, or even to have a safe flight. He’d been posting on Facebook- I didn’t look for it, it came up on newsfeed. When I’d asked him why I didn’t hear from him and he told me he’d been working and had no time I brought up what I saw and asked him not to lie. I wasn’t trying to fight wiht him, I told him that I’d drop it but wanted him to know it bothered me. He started a fight. Refused to answer the phone. He stopped speaking to me for 4 days. We talked on and off about a week while i was home. A generic Christmas greeting here and there, a few pictures of our climate through Whatsapp, me getting excited about coming home to see him. Him promising that I was all his the night I got back. I didn’t even ask him to get me from the airport, I just wanted him that night.

He had other plans in mind, and when he mentioned them, I told him he should go to his family dinner, but I was probably not going to be up for it after traveling 12 hours. Not once did I tell him he shouldn’t go, but I did express that I was really disappointed because I was expecting something very different after not seeing him for a month.

Selfish. Possessive. Nuerotic.

Those are the words I got to describe myself according to him for how I felt about the change in plans. Once we were in the heat of it I didn’t express myself very well, but I don’t think enough to merit those descriptive words (especially this only being our 2nd flight in 10 months), and to hear,

Actually, I was excited to see you tomorrow, but I really don’t want to anymore.”

However, by this point I had accepted this as part of who he was. Quick easy temper when he feels defensive. Oddly long cool off period. Whatever. It stung but I wanted him, and I wanted us, so I didn’t push him.

I also didn’t hear from him the day I flew home. Or the one after.

I gave in the day after, explained what I meant, and things seemed to be resolved.

They weren’t.

Fast version: He comes over, says things haven’t changed and we had the same exact discussion when he came back from New York. There’s a pattern. It’s when we travel. I’m too needy. I’m too possessive for wanting to see him immediately after travel. He’s not expressive. It’s not going to change. He wants to be with me, but he’s not going to. If he hurt me, he’s sorry he didn’t mean to. He wants to stay friends. Doesn’t think I should shut him out totally. Do you want me to go? I’ll stay or go. Doesn’t matter that he’s going to leave anyway. He leaves. More tears. Distress.

And now I’m here. Waking up alone. All the habits and traditions and plans of the last 10 months smashed to pieces.