Hooplah.Org A Story of Graceful Stumbles

Site of a Different Color

As I promised in the previous entry, here is a new layout. It's just as unfinished as the last one (no "easy access" to the archives, lack of the all-so-thrilling and original bio) but I'll have it up as soon as I am able. My process for writing and creating has always been a private activity for me, something I would wait to do until I was alone or out of sight, and while it's not a sign that I'm uncomfortable I still feel a little silly doing this with new eyes watching me. I'll get over it soon enough.

Trees Falling in a Deserted Forrest

If I had to pinpoint the moment that I knew it was finally over between us I think it would have been the first time I realized that I missed Matt, as though he were a thousand miles away, even though he was sitting on the other end of the couch. For the first time I was thankful that I had had that feeling before - the morbid realization that the person I care for now only exists in my mind - because it reminded me of just how much I didn't want to go through that a second time.

The damage had already been done months ago, back when Matt first confessed he didn't love me like he used to, and at the time my response was to cling to him tighter until I was ready to deal with what that meant for me. It took a few months to get around to it, but when I finally had the time to define how I felt about our relationship I realized that I was tired of settling for the unhappiness I was living with. I'll always appreciate that Matt continued to try to make it work between him and I, almost entirely for my sake alone but feeling pity for someone's situation isn't the right reason to stay with them. Our 5 year relationship was dead long before I was ready to accept that it was and no matter how many excuses to continue that I had, the "if he doesn't propose to me by then" ultimatums I made, was going to change what needed to be done in order for me to stop standing in place and start moving forward in my life again. I knew it would be a difficult situation to get out of, but I finally understood that it was no longer a choice of what I could do but more about finding the strength for what I had to.

On September 11th 2007, Matt and I officially ended our relationship over work e-mail. I was the one that initiated the conversation and Matt was glad that I was "being more accepting this time around." Under any other circumstance that choice phrasing would have infuriated me; how dare he imply that I was somehow blind to the obvious these past few months, and gee, thanks for finally coming to my senses? But as I read and reread that sentence, as well as everything else we said to each other that day, I realized that it didn't faze me at all. On that particular day I surprised even myself by how ready I was to hear it.

After having spent longer than I ever have on any one entry for this website, that is all there is to say. The last year was difficult and disappointing and it will take some time before I can look past that and find some appreciation for the time I spent with Matt but I couldn't wait for that to happen before I wrote about it. I want to carry on with my life, I want to feel like I can move forward in my writing, and I wouldn't of been able to do that if I tried to skip over what happened between Matt and I. This website is a documentation of my life, my place of confession; it would have been tarnishing all that this means to me to overlook a moment as important as this. 5 years is a long time to devote to a relationship and, in my opinion, the ending of it deserved to be acknowledged. So that's what I did.

And, as simple as that I am finally through.

That Lovers Lament Crap

I've had my share of moments where I was a very jealous person, but I'm not sure if it was jealousy that made my Monday just a little tougher to get through than usual.

Though I work in a large organization (by non-profit standards), there aren't many people who work there that are in their mid 20s or younger; there might be a handful of us at best. One of those few works in the same department as me, but since our jobs aren't directly related we haven't had much time to interact. The few times we have had a chance to talk the topic would usually be something involving our respective relationships, since she had been with her boyfriend for 3 or 4 years and me with mine for 5. It's not much to go on, but it's where our similarities start and end and when we needed it it made for suitable small talk. However, after this past weekend, it's not something we have in common anymore - her boyfriend is now her fiancé. She has a very beautiful ring, a picture perfect story of how he asked her to marry him, and a glow on her face that stayed with her all day. And like she should, she told everyone she knew at work the good news. The whole day was punctuated with the occasional squeal of "ohmygoodnesscontratulations!" and it seemed as though no matter where it was in the building I could always hear it.

I am happy for her, but at the same time it's only added to the progressive restlessness I've had about my relationship with Matt.

Earlier this year there were a few months when there was something obviously wrong with Matt and I's relationship. We have had fights in the past, but this was the first disagreement we've had that started, finished, and left our relationship in ruins without either of us saying a word. Even now I can't pinpoint when it started or even what it was actually about. There were two times that we talked about it, and both played out in the same way: in the morning I would send an e-mail saying that I wasn't happy, by the end of the day Matt would confess he wasn't as in love with me as he used to be, and on my way home in rush hour I struggled to deal with the realization that everything I knew about my life was about to end that the home I was heading to wasn't going to be my home for much longer. That in a few weeks I would be back in Virginia.

I had my own ways of trying to digest what was happening. I spent a lot of time slipping away and crying in my favorite bathroom stall at work. I would also be crying while I was driving home in the evenings, which I'm sure was an interesting sight for the cars that were around me in the stop and go traffic. A couple of days after Matt and I's first talk about "The Problem" I went to IHOP by myself, my first time eating at a restaurant alone, and after I was done (and left a tip that was almost as much as the french toast and pancakes that I ordered) I sat in my car and cried some more before driving home. The second time we addressed "The Problem", I went to see Blades of Glory alone in the movie theater without telling Matt where I was the whole time I was sitting there trying to take in the realization that I was alone, and that I better get used to it because this is where the past 5 years, 20% of my life, had gotten me. It was only the third time I had seen a movie by myself. After the movie I sat in the parking lot and cried yet again before heading home only to find that Matt wasn't there - he had gone to his parents for a while when he couldn't get ahold of me. Waiting until Matt came home was one of the few times I was by myself and didn't cry.

Both of the days that Matt and I addressed the pink elephant in the room, "The Problem" between us, ultimately ended with me acting how I always do when my heart is breaking - severely pissed off and just like my father, which most of the time are one in the same. Though both days were bad, the second was by far the worst for me. This was the day I e-mailed my supervisor telling her that, I'm so sorry, but I'm moving back to Virginia. I also e-mailed Matt's parents and told them that Matt and I were breaking up but that no matter what I would still always consider them family and I hope that that's ok. Before I left work, I told Matt that if I move back to Virginia that I'm taking Nala and that as soon as my plane touched down in Virginia he would probably not hear from me again.. On the way home from work I called my mother, asking if I could come home, and she said sure without hesitation or a even hint of "you should of known better" in her voice. This was the night I went to see Blades of Glory, and when I came home I sat in the den and hugged Nala for a long time while Matt was still at his parent's. Once Matt got home, I sat in the computer room for a while longer and then began to pack my things. I first packed the den, then the bathroom, and started on the bedroom. Matt was sitting in the living room while I was doing this, silently watching TV, and when I came into the kitchen to get more trash bags I'd take the opportunity to make some snide comments - like "you better keep up with the lean cuisines; you don't want to be fat for your next girlfriend."

I know I was being immature and only hurting my cause, but in the state I was in it was the only way I could stand to act. My version of "survival mode" is to become furious and frantic since it makes me feel as though I'm fighting back against whatever it is that's hurting me. I was facing losing the job I love, the apartment I love, the city I love, the family I thought I was one day going to be apart of, the person I love; I was losing my best and only friend. I was soon going to be going through the motions of ending my life as I knew it and I felt like a fool. I've broken up with people before, I've had my share of being hurt - but never had I found myself in a situation quite like this. Maybe I'm just a weak person, but I can't even fathom being able to keep my maturity and composure in the face of all that.

Somehow between my childishness and Matt's silence, we ended up sitting across each other from our small kitten table staring at each other; Matt looking sad and solemn and me crying and barley controlling my resentment for the situation. I said a few more choice things, as bitter as I could make them, staring hard back at Matt. I don't know how long we did nothing but look at each other, but eventually, without me seeing it coming, I felt myself give up and my muscles loosen. For the first time I saw Matt as my past and not my future.

All of this happened almost 2 months ago, and Matt has since told me that everything is fine again. He tells me this and he tells me it a lot, since I am constantly asking him if everything is ok. What Matt and I went through has made me realize that I may have risked more than I was wiling to lose for the sake of our relationship, but here I remain waiting with baited breath. I moved out here thinking I already had my forever only to learn that nothing is guaranteed. We used to talk about marriage to easily, so eagerly; we talked about how many children we were going to have and what we would name them. Now that we are in a position where marriage is a possibility, whenever I ask about it he dodges the question with excuses I've never heard until now or he just goes silent. I didn't come to Arizona on blind faith and assumptions, but I did come out here under the false impression that promises of the future are something I can depend on. And more and more each day I'm starting to think that this uncertainty I'm living with is not something I'm ok with.

Each day feels like I'm living on borrowed time - today he's giving me a hug, the next I could be packing again. I'm being given no guarantee of my security here other than his word, and as more time goes by it's been progressively hard for me to trust him. He says he loves me but the overall majority of his actions never show it. Matt and I officially celebrate our 5 year anniversary on June 6th and I've come to realization that I'm embarrassed to say I've been dating someone for 5 years. I'm not ashamed of the time I've devoted to our relationship, but I never wanted to be one of those people who dated someone for 6 or 7 years without any real progression. These days so many people meet, date, marry, and divorce in 5 years time, but here I am still stuck on the first step of the process with no sign of taking the next step in sight. I don't want Matt and I's relationship to be yet another period of my life where I spent years of my life and all the energy that I could muster on something that I thought was special only to have it end before it even really started. I hate that I've become one of "those" girls who have become fixated on marriage, but I don't think I am for the same reasons as so many others. It's not even marriage that I want - I just want some sort of sign that we won't be treading water the rest of our time together until one of us gets tired and quits. I'm getting to a point where I need something substantial back from Matt - something that shows that I didn't risk everything about my life, leaving behind everything I've ever known, for nothing. I need some sign of commitment back from him, something that shows he's willing to put in just as much and more into our relationship as I already have. With each day that passes it feels as though that day won't come before I lose my already fading will to wait.

Most of this I've already told Matt either directly or indirectly, which, like everything I do, probably does me and my cause more harm than good. I love him alot but I can't seem to get things straight anymore ever since my world was shaken up. I don't even know if I want what I want for the right reasons.

I know that each time I can't help but ask him when and if he's ever going to propose to me I'm only ruining the moment when and if it eventually comes. I hate that I've resorted to asking him if he's going to ask me. I always wanted to be surprised by an engagement, but I also never thought I would get to a point where I'm left thinking "shit or get off the pot already" about my own love life. I don't want to lose him, but it feels as though if we don't get engaged soon that I will lose him. If the roles were reversed, or if Matt would let me, I would of proposed to Matt ages ago. Even if I had been able to ask him and have him take the question seriously from me, I wonder more and more if he would of politely told me no.