Layered Frustrations

I can’t really find the words to articulate the source of my frustration. But I know there are several layers that are interfering with my daily thoughts, feelings and general disposition. To start, MLT has commenced and, while I was initially enthralled with the idea of participating in such a highly competitive program, the very first challenges are proving to be slightly overwhelming. The writing portion of our monthly assignments will get handled. No sweat. But this f-ing GMAT score might be the death of me. I have invested a nice portion of my annual income into a Kaplan course and, for whatever reason, cannot seem to find the time or mental capacity to study. There are 1000 things I’d rather do each night, every weekend, and in any spare moment I may find. What is my problem?

On top of that, after months of counseling, a new boy, and countless “breaths of fresh air” I find myself troubled with thoughts of the Old Boy again. This past three-day Valentine’s Weekend was emotional to say the least. In fact, the months of January and February combined have been a bit tumultuous for me. I’ve been in a constant funk for no reason at all. Perpetual PMS, if you will. I’ve managed to keep it (for the most part) to myself and try to let it pass. But V-Day weekend was kind of a big deal, and for me to be alone while he’s in NY living it up pulled at every heartstring I think I have.

I get that Valentine’s Day is a “Hallmark Holiday” invented by the consumer products industry to gross over 14 billion dollars annually… but so what? What’s wrong with celebrating love and affection once a year? What’s wrong with telling people (be they friends, lovers, parents, etc.) how you feel? What’s wrong with dinner, flowers, or even a movie night to celebrate the warm fuzzy feeling you get when you’re with that special someone? And, if you have no one… what then?

I ended up at a dinner with friends on Sunday night, and it proved to be just what I needed – lighthearted and full of laughter. Even Monday was pretty cool. I ran a few errands and visited with grandma (who’s still hanging in there!). Whatever.

I think that the failed relationship with the Old Boy coupled with the disastrous disappointment named Aaron is weighing on me more than I’d care to acknowledge. And, trying to focus on my future is not proving as helpful (or even as plausible) as others would lead one to believe. It’s like I’m living in my own mini-hell (again) and everyone is just standing around watching. Even my friends from college appear to be gravitating toward the Old Boy and his new girl… quoting them both on Twitter, causally mentioning them in conversations, appearing to enjoy their company overall. It’s annoying. Try as I may, I can’t seem to escape this sociopath. And he appears to have all of my “college friends” clouded with his devilish deceit. Smh. I hate this.

I have got to get out of here.

Note to Self...

Stop. Checking. Social. Networking. Sites. You. Dummy.

It's no good for you. You never learn anything useful. Who cares what he's doing? Who cares how he's feeling? Your trying season has changed for the better; his pleasurable season will soon come to an end. The same way troubled waters eventually wash away, storm clouds will silently creep into view. This rollercoaster called life cannot afford us those gleeful peaks without an uphill climb. And we never endure those valleys for long, because another exciting twist or turn is just around the bend. So, chin up. Shake it off. One mindless check-in isn't such a terrible thing - but it is unnecessary. Fabulous people with fabulous lives need not check in on the lowly, selfish, slimy hoebags who twice threatened said fabulosity.

Homeboy now has a blog and twitter account. How nice for him. He constantly updates his Facebook with pleas for people to follow him, keep up with him, check in on him and basically behold the mesmerizing nothingness that summarizes his life. How sweet.

He has plans to pursue business school with his 2.0 GPA and 2+ years of non-work experience. (Getting fired from Merrill and quitting a non-profit gig hardly qualify as "experience"... am I right?) Pah! I laugh at this. I hope the coldness of New York winter consumes his scheming little soul and leaves him shuddering in the misery of his own poor decisions. I hope he encounters insurmountable heartbreak and cries himself back to his southern roots for mama to take care of him - again. I hope life starts to reject him the same way he rejected me. I hope he gets hit by a bus. I want the universe to abort him.

It probably doesn't help that I checked his f-ing page after 6 flimsy hours of sleep followed by running 3 miles and almost hurling this morning... It doesn't help that I checked on him to delay the voluminous workload that's already beginning to wear me down. Now I can't even concentrate.

I'm cranky. But I'm also sincere. My anger has subsided but not completely dissipated. Linda isn't sure this feeling will ever go away, either. I hope she's wrong. Perhaps small glimpses into his self-proclaimed "happy life" will always trigger a tiny bit of anger or resentment. But that doesn't mean I have to fuel it. I'm actually fine. So, mosey along now. Nothing to see here.

Are You Happy Now?

You know what else gets me? The fact that he's able to be happy without me in his life. That's a little narcissistic, no? But the idea that he could be truly perplexes me. How can he begin a new life without me in it, and honestly be happy? I haven't fully been able to re-start mine without him, and on most days, I'm pretty miserable. I'm confident that one day (soon, I hope) I'll be able to pick up those last pieces and start to march on again. But in the meantime, my only consistent thoughts have been of him. I wonder if he ever thinks of me? I wonder how often. And are they angry thoughts? Or, are they occasionally sad, remorseful, wistful, and/or depressing? I may never know.

How is it that some people are able to move on so quickly? Rapidly jumping from one relationship to another without any room to breathe or process what is happening in the midst of all of it? Can you honestly fall that hard, that fast? How is that possible? And, does it occur to you that you're hurting others in the process? Do you care about that at all? Does it even phase you? ::sighs::

Are you actually happy? Seriously? I'd really like to know.

The Root of All Evil

My last few posts have been angry, but therapeutic. I'm going to keep the momentum going.

I'm very angry. It's like carrying a boulder with me every day. As soon as I wake up in the morning... I groggily strap it onto my back. Some mornings when I wake up - free from all troubling thoughts - I smile to myself, proudly, thinking "see, you're not thinking about you-know-what." And then, the clouds overpower those last glimmers of sunlight, the shower feels a little less cleansing, my smile disappears, I hang my head... Damnit. Another long day.

I met a really nice woman named Linda, who's been helping me out a lot. Our conversations are always very candid, and she's always so supportive. Even she can hear the anger in my voice... sometimes when I don't even intend for (or realize) it to be there. She pushes me to find the source of that anger. I mean, of course anyone in my shoes would be angry. But, there is a root. There is a source. And when I find it, after peeling back all of those "angry layers" I might actually start to make real strides towards healing. That would be nice.

Maybe the source is me choosing to ever deal with him in the first place? Maybe I'm angry that I let him drag me through senior year - feeling the highest of highs, and lowest of lows - especially when all I ever wanted from him was a post-pledging, springtime fling? Yeah. I entertained him when he pursued me thereafter. Why wouldn't I? I had already put my cards on the table. I didn't or need anything else from him at the time. Perhaps that intrigued him. Perhaps it offended him. It likely did both. Regardless, why was I the one who had to pay the price for his frail ego? Where did that become my problem?

Maybe I'm angry that I answered the phone in February of 2008. And talked with him for 5 hours... listening to his problems, helping where I could, laughing to ease the tension, letting my guard down in hopes of getting my friend back. Maybe I shouldn't have done that.

Maybe the source is that I didn't read the signs all along the way.
"Hello. He is no good for you. Leave him alone."
"Yield."
"Please, he's sleeping with someone else now... move on."
"Dummy - he's just not that into you."
"He's being mean again... stop dealing with him."
"This will never work out."
"He lied about that, too."
"He's done this to other girls before."
"STOP."
"STOP."
"STOP."

Linda finds it interesting that I always look inside first. "You always ask yourself what YOU did wrong, first?" she said - half inquiring/half stating a fact. "Yeah," I replied. "Are you able to hold others accountable when they've done something wrong?" she asked. "Yes!" I said. But it is, indeed interesting that I always manage to bear a disproportionate amount of the burden. I wonder how many other people do that?

Maybe HE'S the source; the root. Maybe it's all his fault, and I have nothing to be ashamed of; nothing to apologize for. Because he chooses not to bear a burden does not mean he's not at fault. "It seems to me, that this is more about him, than anything," said Linda. "It seems as though he has trouble in committed relationships. He's always dating someone - never for long - and moving on to the next girl rather quickly. He may just have intimacy issues. And, that does not speak to you one bit," she commented, in her soft, soothing voice. That thought relaxes me. His inability to fully engage in committed, intimate, real relationships has nothing to do with me.

His new relationship which has been built on hollow, superficial ground with an unsteady, rocky foundation, therefore, is bound to fail... which also has nothing to do with me... but that thought relaxes me as well.

"I'm free to let go of this whenever I choose," I say to myself each morning. I say it in the car too. And, at my desk. At the gym. At dinner. When I'm falling asleep to Conan O'Brien.

"Whenever I choose..."

Bundle of Nerves

I'm a bundle of nerves.

I traveled to NY this weekend with a host of plans on my plate. My linesister was celebrating her engagement Saturday night with a small group of family and friends. I figured if I was going to go up and visit her and see NY friends, I might as well take an additional day or two to visit potential MBA programs.

A week before my scheduled departure, however, something tragic happened. A dear friend of mine from school lost his mother in a car accident. My friend - a grad student studying film - was awaiting his parents' arrival for a film festival the grad program was hosting that weekend. En route, a nearby car caught a flat tire, lost control of the car, swerved and pushed my friend's parents into oncoming traffic... causing his father severe injuries, and his mother... death.

This caused me to re-evaluate my plans. I wanted to be in Virginia for the funeral service. And, judging by the timing, it looked as though I would be able to be. I'd have to miss the engagement party, but I was okay with that. Unfortunately, one grave issue was holding me back. Though relatively insignificant, seeing as how we were dealing with death, I wasn't sure I was emotionally prepared to be in the same room (or same car!) as the boy. Yes. He would surely be there. Our mutual friend happened to be the boy's fraternity linebrother. A friend of ours was driving from NY to VA. There was room in the car. He was definitely going.

::sighs:: That sparks a lot of anger within me. A lot. I'm getting heated just typing this. I was trying to use the month of August as a purge. I was going to divorce myself from there mere mention of his name; divorce myself from the thought of him; divorce myself from social networking sites where I might catch a glimpse of what he was doing. But, I needed advice. Should I go to the funeral and risk my own hurt feelings? Or, proceed with the original plan, and show my friend my support some other way?

The fact that I even need to have this internal debate and external search for answers is troubling. Why is this man STILL dictating how I live my life? Why can't I bear to be around him? Why am I continuing to let him affect my decisions? Enough already!! Ugh. Hearing his name this weekend has been enough to make me crazy. I just want him out of my life forever.

And yet, I find myself hoping I'll see him? I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but he moved to New York to be with his new girlfriend. Evidently, it's that serious. He doesn't have a job. And I know from previous experience that he doesn't have much money... but he has her. And being with her is enough of a reason for him to relocate and build a new life in NYC. How nice.

I had the opportunity to distract myself last night... with Lewis. Lewis lives with the two friends that had driven to VA - with the boy - for the funeral. I knew they would be back in the wee hours of the morning, and that I could have a potentially awkward interaction with them depending upon the hour at which I was coming or going. It could have been blissful - I could have seen the boy, at 4:00 am, and really hurt his feelings. Or, he could have shrugged me off, and hurt mine - again.

See what I mean? Everything I do revolves around him? Annoying. So, I didn't stay... partially because Lewis was playing mad games. I walked over to his house after kicking it with some of my linesisters to find a little video game party at the house. Who invited them? And, there were more girls on the way? Oh, word? I don't have time for this. I ate my McDonald's, chatted with the guests, and by 2:30 am I was ready to peace out. So, while we're sitting together on the couch, and I'm slipping my shoes back on, he starts texting me like "where are you going... you should just stay." More on that later.

I'm angry, and sad, and disappointed that I couldn't go to the funeral. I'm angry that I even still care what that boy is doing with his life. I'm irritated that I want to see him - or moreso that I want HIM to see ME. Get out of my head... Go.

Hopefully these business school visits will be fulfilling tomorrow and Tuesday. I have a bright future to look forward to. A future that does not - by any stretch of the imagination - include him. I'm taking it one day at a time. One foot in front of the other. Slowly but surely. ::tears:: Why the fuck is it taking so. damn. long?

Clairvoyance

What the fuck have I been doing for the past four years?

After many internal conversations, much agonizing, countless tears and circling conversations, I have reached a timeless conclusion – one I end at repeatedly – I’m over it. I’m not necessarily “over it” in the sense that I’m over The Boy… because, though I should be, I’m not quite there. And not “over” all relationships… because I feel as though I’m actually pretty close to being ready for a real one. I’m over the grown-up childishness of having a “boo,” or “talking” to someone, or endless “dating” with no real future. I’m over laughing at derogatory jokes about women. I’m over misogynistic hip-hop lyrics. I’m over our over-sexed society. I’m over black men who cannot commit. I’m over black men who CAN commit, and only refuse to do so with “the boo”. I’m over jump-offs. I’m over casual sex (for the most part). I’m over “playing it cool” to score points with someone who probably doesn’t deserve the 15 minutes of time I’m willing to spend.

I’m over late night conversations that won't ever see the dawn of a new day. I’m over cutesy text messages with no real purpose. I’m over men who say one thing and mean another. It’s all so silly. I’m over sucking it up for the sake of “what if” and “maybe later”. I’m over sacrificing my wants and needs for those of others. I’m over the game.

The pain I have endured over the past three months (disproportionately as a result of my dealings with this whore-boy) has taught me so, so much. Not only do I realize what I can put up with versus what I will put up with, but I appreciate that I don’t HAVE to put up with shit. I can do bad all by myself. I can date outside of my race. I can achieve happiness being alone. Purely physical relationships tend to get me in trouble anyway. And for what? What is fulfilling about a casual encounter? Where is the love in any of that? When is the last time I WAS in love? When will I find it again?

Granted, I’m being built into a better me. God is really working some magic this summer. And, while it hurts like hell, I KNOW it is for the best. I do not doubt it for one second. But, I’ve been chastising myself for my “number”. Not in a holier-than-thou religious sense, but in a perfectionist you-know-you-know-better sense. Why did add those worthless “notches”? Who even CARES about some of these dudes?! I get so angry.

I’m not bitter. I’m refreshed, actually.

Clairvoyant.

High.

How sweet is the realization that substantive relationships are attainable, and real, and well-deserved? Hell no, I don’t have to settle for a non-committal sociopath. I could actually meet someone amazing! Someone older. Someone mature. Someone grounded. I could test these fragile and somewhat hardened wings again… soaring over the disgust and contempt I once felt for he who shall forever remain nameless. I will rise above it. There is someone out there with whom I’m more compatible and more equally yoked. Maybe he’s sitting at a corner Starbucks reading today’s Post. Maybe he’s buying a new mixtape at Moods Records in L5P. Maybe he’s working late nights, grinding, just like me. Maybe…

I know it’s not time for me to meet him yet – because, like I said, I’m not there yet. My head is still jumbled with fleeting thoughts of The Boy. My heart is still reeling from the petty, but hurtful email war with the GF. She made me feel small. She chastised me for mistakes I know I should have never made. She gutted me. Yanked me by my roots and tossed me aside. And, though their foundation is unsteady – built upon lies, and backstabbing, and false realities – it doesn’t involve me. Though I cringe as I reflect upon her words, and secretly continue to plot against her… their present does not involve me. I don’t even care about the two of them together. I care that I was and continue to be affected by her sharp and pervasive WORDS. Sticks and stones… I know… but still.

I still have a few more things to learn. I still have a few more miles to go. I still have some rebuilding to do. My mom has some more wisdom to share. My heart has some mending to bear. I have a few more tears, I think. A few more prayers… Some kinks to iron out. I’ll get there. I’m not too worried about it… I’m just disappointed about those four frivolous years: dealing with him, rebounding from him, forgetting about him, remembering him, spiting him, reconnecting with him, believing him, ignoring him, trusting him, and burying him... for good. I used men as tools during the rebound years to make myself feel better. Or, to make him feel worse… To numb college heartache... To satisfy drunken curiosity... None of it seems to have meant anything now. None of it seems relevant. None of it seems useful. So, why’d I do it?! And, why did I let it go this far?

What the fuck have I been doing for the past four years?

A Sad New Sorority

Last night, I talked with friends from college that I rarely speak with. Of course, the nature of the conversation centered around the boy. As I shared "my side" of the story, I was met with comments ranging from "girl, let me tell you what happened to me!" and "girl, I can completely relate!" And, while a huge chunk of me is appreciative that I'm not the only person who has to endure utter and complete mess on occasion, it saddens me to know that everyone else is dealing with the same trifling-ass n!ggas too.

Why?

What is it about our alma mater, our community, and our society that allows men to trample all over us? Does it begin when we settle for less? When we settle for a non-title when we know we deserve one? When we turn a blind eye to his flirting because we're "just friends" and he's not really hurting anyone? How about when we let a handful of lies slide because we ultimately know what the truth is and "it's not really that big of a deal". We let these problems escalate. I know I did at least. And what about those instances when we ignore our gut? A woman's intuition is a powerful thing. I need to learn to let mine guide me and stop second-guessing every thing she brings to light.

Why, when one of our girls is sad, do we try to top each other with painful stories of how we've been done wrong? Yes, it's funny to us, and it brightens our mood, because the stories are so incredibly ridiculous! He has a child that you didn't know about? He has impregnated his baby mama AGAIN? He got a girlfriend WHILE y'all were talking? (Hand raised - me too!) He tried to talk to you knowing he was in a relationship? He let you go tit-for-tat with his girl and stood on the sidelines blameless? He's MARRIED?! What the ham sandwich is going on in the world? These things are not okay! It's not okay. And, I would say "women, we have to do better" but a lot of my girls who experience these things are innocent in the situation. They were led to believe in a false reality. They were sold dreams... and devastated to wake up from them.

I will admit, I fell asleep smiling last night. I learned some new facts about the GF that gave me brand new perspective. Ol' girl had just gotten out of a relationship when she and The Boy started one. Rebounding asses. They deserve each other. She has also been described (objectively) as immature, boy-crazy, a girly-girl, thirsty for attention but otherwise "cool". "She seems cool," is what I keep hearing. Okay.

Whatever. I'm not mad at her. Though her nasty emails are what warranted this investigation, I'm luckily too swamped with work to continue to worry about her. But HIM. SMH. I can only imagine what is in store for him. It's not my battle. I know. He's in my past. I don't need to worry about him. I need to let him go... don't lecture me, I know these things.

I'm just saying. Membership in the "He Did Me Wrong" Sorority is too costly. Who wants to join such a sad little organization anyway? Problem is, once you express interest in a deadbeat man (knowingly or unknowingly), you have no way to predict your dues. It could cost you a year of your life... maybe four... maybe more. Praise God for the day when you can call the situation a "lesson learned" and begin to move on with your life.... offering sound words of advice to the neophytes as they join. I'll thank God that my haze is over. I'm still reeling from Hell Night, but who in their sound mind would ever go back and RE-DO Hell Night? I think not.

I'm a member! Woo-hoo. Paid in full. What is the next step? Hm? Let me find some Sorority elders and ask them. There's no use in joining anything if you can't network and learn from others... so "helloooooooo... what's next?" Sisterly relations? Regionals? National Conference?

I guess Sisterly Relations would be the "I-Can-Top-That" stories shared over late night phone calls saturated with wine. Regionals are the weekend vacays where you and your girls share updates. Nationals, in my case, equals Homecoming, where we're confronted with many of the men who DID us wrong, and we're forced to look, feel and be FLYER THAN EVER so that those same raggedy-ass dudes can cry themselves to sleep at night when they reflect upon their dumbass decisions that caused us to end all ties. For them, I imagine it feels like when a recovering alcoholic is confronted with a Vodka Tonic after however many months of sobriety. Kill yourself.

I'm not proud to be a member, but I'm glad to have such great sisters. Warm. Understanding. Non-judgemental. Funny. Sensitive. Real.

::sighs:: I'll ask again - what's next?

A Hug for Myself

Well. I decided to let it go. The saga that I started by sending an anonymous email has finally ended by my letting the GF have the last word. She was infuriating in her first email to me, and after I responded, her follow-up was condescending and downright rude. But you know what, had someone come at me that way, I'm not sure I would have reacted differently. What's trifling is that he let her do it. He provided ammunition and obscured me to be the villain; the psychotic ex; the groupie; the jump off; the silly girl who couldn't let it go.

My friends have been comforting to me - each in their own way. But, no one has been in my shoes, or felt what I'm feeling. I cannot honestly expect to get a sound word out of advice from any of them. People cannot give what they don't have.

So, if I were my friend, this is what I would say to myself:

[HUGE BEAR HUG] "Girl. I know. I know... let it out. You never thought it would come to this, right? I know. It's okay. Let it out.

You deserve so much better. And I'm not saying that to be cliche or because you're my girl. I'm saying it because it's true. Look at him. Really, see him for who he is. He has never made an effort to put a title on your relationship. He has never defended you or stood up for you in this situation or any other. In college, when girls were staring at you crazy, he LET that happen. Now, he has forwarded all of your email addresses to his new girlfriend. He is not standing up for you. He is lying about you, dragging your name through the mud, and ruining your reputation. I know it's difficult to let it go. I know it is. But you can't continue to feed the beast. It will only escalate. You have to be the one to put an end to it - even if it's a passive end.

Do you see the way he looks at her? The way he introduces her? The way he references her? He never did that for you. Ever. And you deserve that from someone. You do. Someone who DOES have a job. Someone who DOES have a career path. Someone with money in the bank. Someone who is honest. Someone with goals. The man you deserve respects women. He doesn't indulge in drama. He doesn't treat people like "things". He respects feelings. His word is his bond. He listens. He cares. He's selfless. He's mature. He's handsome. He's humble. He's thoughtful. He's well traveled. He's well read. He's gentle. He will compliment you perfectly.

He won't lie about who you are, how he feels about you, how he felt about you, or the status of your relationship. He won't deny your past because it's convenient for his present. He won't drop you for something shiny and new. He won't remain silent as others attack you. He won't put you in emotionally draining situations.

He will admire you. He will build you up. He will catch you when you fall. He will honor you. He will trust you. He will earn your trust. He will respect you. He will love you. He will LOVE you.

[Rubbing back] You will get through this. I know it's hard. I know you're disappointed, and frustrated, and confused. I know you're hurt. I KNOW you're hurt. And I know it feels like God is looking over you... passing you by. But He is not. Maybe THIS is what it would take for you to finally cut that negative man out of your life. Maybe the 2nd, 5th, 9th and 15th times were not enough. But the great thing about God is that He is patient and understanding. Before you even met that boy, God knew what the outcome would be - and He knew how long it would take for you to learn your lesson. So praise God that the time has finally come. Move forward. Clear you heart of all anguish and pain. Clear you heart of all turmoil. Pray for forgiveness of self. Forgive the very one who has caused you this pain. Move forward. You will need a clean heart and a renewed spirit for the Love that God has in store for you. You will need energy, and humility and room for Love. If you remain bitter and heartbroken, there will be no room for the joys that your future love has to offer.

Make peace with this. Take your time... but know that as soon as this chapter is over, you can begin the next one. It is up to you how long that will take. He treated you badly, and that was wrong. But YOU cannot fix his heart. YOU cannot win this war. Sending emails and trying to explain the situation to her are futile efforts. Being catty and snide in response to her is childish. He has already won her trust. And she is clearly blinded by, eh, whatever it is they have for each other. You cannot direct this show. You cannot control the next moves. Know this though - he will pay for what he has done. Your email war with this girl, and heart wrenching sadness, and sleepless nights, and daily agonizing, and persistent headaches, and loss of appetite, and endless soul searching are your penance. You have surely gained what you needed from this situation and God knows how sorry you are. You made decisions - some good, some bad - and have paid the price for them. Move forward. Leave him behind. Grow. Open you heart for what God has in store.

I love you. And there's nothing you can do to ever make me stop loving you. You are a beautiful person, and it pains me to see you go through this. I'm so sorry that there's nothing more that I can do. But you are a strong person. You are resilient. You deserve more. And, more is on the way. Leave him behind. Love yourself enough to leave him behind. Love yourself enough to ignore her rude comments. Love yourself enough to leave both of them in their places - in your rearview mirror. Move forward."

::sighs:: Deep breaths. He told her I was a jump off. He has implied that I mean/meant nothing to him. I know what I did was fucked up, and I apologize for that. I sincerely do. I don't feel the need to say that directly to either of them - but I will send that sentiment into the universe. I am remorseful. I have learned not to let my emotions get the best of me. I have also learned not to let a man have the best of me - particularly when he is a slimy, manipulative, self-serving, lying-ass, backstabbing, insecure, immature, ego-maniacal pig.

That felt nice.

[Bear hug for myself]

God makes all things new and I will follow Him FORWARD.

My Work E-Mail?

So. Awhile ago I did something silly. I'll admit it was slightly psychotic, but whatever. Sometimes people will push you places. I sent the new GF an email detailing all of the ups and downs of my "relationship" with the boy. The only catch - I sent it from a fake e-mail address. Fun, right? Nice and dramatic.

Time passed, he withdrew his business from my company. He and I exchanged choice words via email, gchat, what have you. I was making progress in my life, learning to live without him, juggling the multiple work stresses and stresses from back at home... I was doing okay.

In a conversation with Dionne the other day, however, she revealed that he had been treating her "weird" in the past months. She didn't know about the email, but once I explained the situation to her, she said things began to make sense. No wonder he had been rude and stand-offish with her in social settings. He thought SHE was the one who sent the cold and somewhat out-of-line email. ::sighs::

Out of loyalty to her, I broke my two-month silence with the boy, notifying him that it was I who sent the email. He needed to keep Dionne out of it. Well, that was a terrible move. Within hours, I received an email from his GF - sent directly to my two google accounts and my work email. MY WORK EMAIL.

Let me tell you something. It doesn't matter what kind of personal drama anyone is EVER going through. You DO NOT play on people's work email. You DO. NOT. PLAY. on people's work email. Ever. No excuse. I was heated. Livid, really. Trembling to the point that I could not think straight.

Now, I guess this is what I get for playing around on email to start off with, but to be perfectly honest, my intentions weren't 100% malicious. I was angry to start off with, but I really felt like she should know what she was getting into. I guess she'll have to learn the hard way. No longer my problem. I can't say I haven't been plotting against her since yesterday though. Trying to figure out the right way to clear my name and erase all of the terrible lies that boy has been tellin her. But why do I even care? He's moving to New York to be with her, and based on her email to all THREE of my accounts, they're "incredibly happy" together. Well isn't that beautiful.

I'm going to try not to dwell on it. I really am. But I know how I get and it will take a minute to get this out of my system. The audacity of BOTH of them. He is a ridiculous person and it's a blessing that he has been removed from my life. She CLEARLY does not see the whole picture, otherwise she wouldn't be so desperate to paint their love story for me. I'm no longer sad about him or pining to have him back in my life. I secretly hope he gets hit by a bus in Harlem, or mugged in broad daylight. Is that bad?

Who cares.

My mom is hilarious. I'm so glad we're getting to the point where I can tell her *practically* anything. I told her tidbits about my current drama - enough to get her perspective without totally outing myself - and she agreed with me. She took my side. So I started telling her more stuff, the stuff I had done wrong, and she said to me "sometimes people just have to get cursed out." Now, my mother does not curse whatsoever. So to hear that comment from her made me laugh out loud. She said "sometimes people just push you to the point that you have to do that. If you can't talk to them in your language, you have to talk to them in theirs." It was nice to hear her say that. To me, it reaffirmed that I had been handling this okay. I couldn't escape blame for what I did, and I'll own up to that. But the fact that this boy has been lying to the GF about me, and she's buying every word is slowly driving me crazy.

It goes back to the control issue, I guess. Clearly I don't have any in this predicament. It's bittersweet to have to "let it go" especially when I have so much else I want/need to say to both of them. It just means the final episode of this soap opera will be epic. Knock down, drag out. Monumental. It's not to say that I thrive off of drama because I typically avoid it at all costs. But, man. He is taking it there, and I'm tired of being trampled by his foolishness. Deep breaths.

What goes around comes around.

God's Magic. Mommy's Touch.

I thought I was slipping into a mild depression at one point. Now, I don’t think that’s what the issue was. I may have been overwhelmed by all of the things happening in my life simultaneously, but I think the worst of it has passed. My family has gotten a lot closer over the past few months, which is an incredible blessing. It’s sad that someone’s health has to fail them before we realize how important they are to us. I talk to my mom every day now. I talk to my dad every other day. I pray more often. I’ve seen aunts, uncles and cousins more in the past few months than I have in recent years combined. And our exchanges are pleasant. No one begrudgingly hugs another and silently questions where they have been since 2007. We’re genuinely happy to see one another. I’m learning so much about my dad’s side of the family that it makes my head spin. There are so many dark secrets, and skeletons buried deep within our ancestral closet. And yet, with every new discovery, I feel closer to the cousins and extended family members I’ve grown to love over the past 25 years.

My cousin and I went to visit my brother this weekend to christen his new apartment, and celebrate the new chapter in his life: becoming a grown up. His job is treating him well, his new home is lovely, and girlfriend is playing “wife” with more ease every time I see her. Friday night when we arrived, the three of us sat on his patio sipping beer and discussing the estrangement of our oldest uncle (my dad’s brother) from the rest of the family. We hypothesized the many reasons he could have cut off an entire network of his life – sisters, brothers, and an ailing mother. It could have been my grandfather’s death. It could have been the new man that entered Grandma’s life once my grandfather passed. It could have been the pressure of being the oldest. Perhaps there were life challenges that he met in the Navy that changed his perspective about the value of family. We’ll never really know.

On the car ride home my cousin and I discussed my grandmother’s inevitable funeral. Would our long-lost uncle even attend? Would there be tension if he showed up? Would there be tension if he didn’t? You know, just being around family is one of the most therapeutic treatments life has offered me recently. I find myself smiling more. Laughing, even. There’s a genuine, unspoken love that fills a room - even when it is silent - when you’re around family.

It’s my dad’s mom who is sick and drifting. So, I’ve been spending lots of time with his brothers and sisters as they make their way in town to see her. With every hug, however, is a question about my mother. Though they have their own mom to worry about, they embrace me with more warmth because they know how difficult it is on a child to watch a parent endure hardship. There’s no hierarchy with them. No priority of their pain over mine; over my mom’s. We’re a family and we have to get through all of this together.

None of my friends have been able to say or do anything that has fully comforted me over the past two months. Granted, unless someone has been in the exact same situation, there’s no amount of advice or comfort they could really offer anyway. How have I been getting through this? The love of God. An unwavering embrace and extension of love from Her… though I cannot say that I’ve done the same in return. I have been so frustrated and confused and hurt and angry. Some mornings I’ve woken up peacefully, knowing that this was all a part of God’s plan. Some mornings I’ve woken up dreading the day before me, begging for God to hurry up with this lesson and let me move forward. But, regardless of my mood or immediate reaction to this trial, I have managed to keep going.

I never realized how important extended family was until now. It’s a difficult, albeit beautiful, lesson that God has taught me. My grandmother is bringing me closer to family I rarely, if ever, speak to. We’re planning family trips and reuniting on multiple levels now. That’s a blessing. We’re building unspoken connections through our pain. These connects will sustain themselves forever, I’m sure. We’re a lot tougher than we think we are. Everyone is planning to surprise my dad with a visit in a few weeks. I expressed to them that I was worried about how he was handling all of this. He admitted that he wasn’t doing a great job of taking it all in. And so, his brothers and sisters are rising to the occasion… God’s incomprehensible magic at work.

I talk to my mom every day now. Unsolicited phone calls from me while I’m working, driving, sitting, dozing… I appreciate her so much more. And that’s a blessing. I still have so much to learn from her, to ask her, to emulate. What better time to start than now? Her strength, courage and wisdom… her faithfulness to God… her steadfast and confident spirit… her retreat from life stressors… her sense of humor in the midst of it all… her life coaching skills… her unyielding maternal instincts… her sharpness… her blond moments… her ability to support herself… her ability to ask for help… I want to be like her when I grow up.

And God, I need for her to stick around.

Enough Already!

As if I don't have enough on my mind.

This weekend was a full one. I kicked off Friday afternoon (thank God for Summer Fridays!) with a "Bitch Session Happy Hour" with co-workers. It relieved a lot of stress and left me in my happy place - full of chips & salsa and tipsy off of house margaritas. I babysat that night, dozing off to re-runs of TNT original programming.

Saturday began nicely enough. I slept in, then headed to an annual bday pool party for a good friend of mine. After a few hours of basking in the sun, I made my way to a separate bday get-together for one of my linesisters. A lot of our other linesisters had made the voyage down from NYC to help her celebrate, and I wanted to be sure I saw everyone before they left. I arrived to her apartment, tan and tipsy. Pleasantries were exchanged. And man, I was genuinely happy to sit around, sipping beer, with such esteemed ladies. Though we were all around the same age, I admired these women so much for their progress in their professional lives, their fashion sense, their humor, their warmth... I had been anxious to finally chat with my college peers about some of the things going on in my life. I knew they'd each be able to relate to the man-drama, the work-drama, the family-drama... and I was 100% confident that SOMEONE would offer me a little tidbit of advice that would help put things in perspective for me. How did each of them endure hardships and remain fly in the process? How did they make the tough times seem so easy?

But instead, we talked mostly on the superficial level about work and our readiness to move on to the "next phase" in our individual lives - whatever that may be... Slightly disappointed about the lack of depth in our conversation (mind you, they were all getting dressed & ready for the club that night) I took it in stride, and continued the glossed-over convo topics until they were ready to go. Beer in hand, I joked to one linesister about twitter and how she had yet to approve my "follow" request. I still don't quite understand why people protect their updates... but okay. It was at that point she said she had a "bone to pick" with me. WTF? Was she serious?

In typical Michele fashion, I racked my brain trying to figure out exactly what - if anything - she could be upset about. She and I hardly ever kept in touch, and saw each other on rare occasions, such as this one, when lots of sorority sisters happened to be in the same place. Come to find out, she was upset over something I supposedly said to her ex-boyfriend in 2006. This was a time in my life when I was devastated over the boy (much like I am now) and found myself at the gym almost every afternoon. From time to time, Anisa would come with, and we'd jog along my alma mater's track in early evening hours. Of course, there were tons of other students and post grads with the same mentality - running/jogging along the track, and playing soccer on the field. So, summer evenings became somewhat of a skit, with everyone half-working-out, half-socializing after work or after class.

My LS's newly ex-boyfriend noticed Anisa and asked me "what her deal was". Knowing that he had just broken up with my LS, I was in somewhat of an awkward position. In honesty, I told him she was single - nothing more. However, when he translated the story back to my LS, it was I who initiated the hook-up, pushing Anisa onto him in a twisted, malicious attempt to somehow ruin... I don't even know. The shit just doesn't even make sense. Anisa wasn't even FEELING him, which make the story all the more preposterous. Whatever.

As if I don't have enough on my mind.

SHE had a BONE to pick with ME?! Sweetheart - you're three years too late. Why didn't you bring this up then and there? We could have nipped it in the bud, and all would be long forgotten. Second - he's LYING. Now, of course you'll believe your man, or ex-man, or whatever he is, before me. I get that. But please believe that meddling like that it not my style (unless the situation pertains directly to me) and I respect(ed) you way too much to ever do something like that. "Water under the bridge," she called it after she'd gotten that off of her chest. Oh. You have no idea. I'm officially over you, and everyone else who even thinks of bringing added drama into my life. I have no space for it.

::Sighs:: On Sunday I volunteered at my church, had brunch with friends, picked up Ruby for two hours of bonding, and then headed to a bday cookout. The time with Ruby was positive but draining. I watched her splash around my apartment pool (begging me repeatedly to get in with her - but to no avail), then fed her ice cream over a few Hannah Montana episodes. I gave her a mini-manicure and made a deal with her that if she read 10 books over the summer, I'd get her an iPod. See. I'm trying to be a good person. The cookout was fun (even though I was SO exhausted). After a few Bacardi-Pineapples I loosened up and chatted with Melanie about even more weekend drama that I hadn't even been aware of. Whenever too many women (esp. sorority sisters) get around each other, there's like a 24-hour threshold before we start plotting to devour one of our own. Sad but true.

Blah, blah, blah. Watched the SATC Movie last night and cried my eyes out. I'm convinced it was a by product of sleeplessness, PMS, and residual sadness regarding the boy. When will I move past him? When will I stop caring about his every move? His every thought? His bear hugs...? Ufck it, I miss him. Okay? Even though he has hurt me again, and broadcasts his every thought of her via gchat, and plasters love song lyrics on his facebook wall (soliciting "thumbs up" and "likes this" comments from HER in every. single. instance)... I'm still curious to know how he's REALLY doing. Does being "strong" mean I will never talk to him again? That seems as much a disservice to me as it is to him. If I call him, does that make me "weak"? Will I even care this time next Monday when Aunt Flow has come and gone?

And how does any of this compare to the health of my mother or grandmother? It doesn't. Where are my priorities?

Who knows. Who cares.

Whatever.