2005-07-21 - 1:41 a.m.
Moving into my own place was so final, so real, so scary. I cleaned and studied obsessively. I walked around feeling vaguely nauseated. I watched a million movies. I would burst into tears at the slightest provocation. Watching television. Reading. Sitting in class. Driving. Talking on the phone. I was a wreck.
It's been almost exactly 6 months since I moved out and I have lost the empty feeling bit by bit. Sure, I'm still angry sometimes. I'm jealous of people in love even through I know that makes me an evil bitch. I miss bits and pieces of what I had.
I broke down the other day because of what a friend was doing to make studying for the bar exam better for her boyfriend. That was me last year. Cooking, cleaning, trying to make life as easy as possible for my sweetie while he studied. It wasn't a chore. I loved making him happy. I just wish someone wanted to do that for me. The way I feel about the whole experience has changed dramatically over the past 6 months. I still remember the exact date it happened but I'm not sure if that is due to not being over it or due to my freakish memory for all things numerical.
Tonight as I studied I was listening to the Garden State soundtrack. This was on heavy rotation for me during the first few months on my own, but I had given my copy to my father to listen to for a while. Listening to the familiar songs tonight was a strange experience. It's almost as if some of the songs absorbed the pain I was feeling earlier in the year. When I listen to them again, I feel the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You" -- Colin Hay -- Who knew one of the guys from Men At Work could unleash so much emotional turmoil? I used to listen to this song and think it was SO TRUE. I WOULDN'T ever get over him. Except maybe I am or maybe I already have. Listening to the song reminds me of how awful I felt and shows me how good I feel now.
I'm too tired to remember how I felt listening to each individual song. And like more and more things about him and our breakup, it just feels like a bother to relive it all.
It's sad that all my feelings now have become so competitive. Who's going to have the best date at the annual firm party? Who will start dating first? Oh...wait...probably him. Studying for the bar exam does not do wonders for one's social life. Who will be more well-liked at work? Who's life will be better? Why does it matter?
I think part of the reason that all of this has been brought to the front of my mind is that I thought I would become engaged next month. We would have taken a trip abroad together after I took the bar and what better place to propose than Italy? No, seriously, what better place? I know some people would say Paris, but for me it would be Italy. Or New Zealand, but that's a whole different idea altogther. It's a weird thing mourning the loss of the life you thought you would have. I know I'm better off without him, but images of what my life would have been life occasionally flash before my eyes and catch me off guard.
