Letting go

Broken heart...it's not an easy thing to live with.

Four months ago I would have given anything to forget, or die, or wake up and find I was really just having a horrible nightmare. But every person who's ever had a broken heart can attest that reality is our worst and best companion. Time passes by in a haze, whether brought on by our own personal yearning to forget as much as often as possible, or simply because we forget how quickly life moves on.

I have loved and I believe my love was one of the greater loves...it was volatile, fervent, lustful, truthful, and most of all, painful. Sure I could keep on pointing fingers, and placing blame and hating, but what good does that do for me?

This isn't meant to inspire, or enlighten. I myself am not inspired to continue loving. If anything, I am terrified of ever loving again. We must understand that love is truly fleeting. Not many of us get to experience it in its most innocent form, and not many get to experience it at all. And as sad as that realization is, would it even be called love if everyone did experience it? If anything, we'd just call it a phase, like puberty, and mid-life crises.

The truth is that, four months and twelve days later, I still miss my past. It is an everyday battle to get out of bed, put on that painful smile and take steps forward. The reality of this is that THIS IS REALITY. We are constantly hammered by media and society on what love is like, and we are falsely taught to hope for rainy kisses, and surprise proclamations of love, epiphanies of love and soul mates and forever. It is because of movies like The Notebook, P.S. I Love You and the likes of these films that we search and search for OUR love.

What is the reality of my love? Despite my mind's struggle to keep a romanticized notion of my love, the reality of it is that it was a hard and tedious love. And after having spent 2 1/2 years of my life being promised to be loved forever, and being told that I am the most perfect person on the planet, and there is no way that I'd ever be broken up with....well, he did break up with me, and he did stop loving me, and he did move on...took him three months after we broke up (or maybe sooner, what do I know). The truth, and the reality of our lives are never what we'd like it to be, but after having my heart completely dismantled, I find, that we get over it.

I never said it was easy, I still cry, I still feel lonely and I still love him. But less and less am I expecting him to show up at my house on new years eve telling me that he realizes he can't live without me. (yeah, this is my stupid fantasy that I play out in my mind sometimes....because, hey, I'm a masochist like everyone else). Slowly but surely, I am accepting that we had an amazing time together...for, despite the hardships, we loved the way very few will ever love, and it was so seamless it could've been right out of a love story...but like most unwritten endings to love stories....it had to end, because honestly? there are 7 billion people in this world, and we expect to be settled with? There are people out there who are 20 times better at everything we do great already, so why in the world would we expect to be with someone forever?

Am I bitter? Yes.
Am I stronger? Definitely yes.
Am I still alive? Yes.

He may have broken every promise he made, and he may have been the one to break up with me, but in retrospect, he's still doing the same thing he was yesterday, and last week, and a month ago: working at some grungy bar, smoking weed to drown out his own reality, and hooking up with some rebound.

What have I been doing since the break up?

I traveled to Mexico, I am being mentored by great industry professionals, I am one quarter closer to graduating with my BACHELORS in June of 2013, I am working out to get healthy, and I am working and being social and doing whatever it is that I want. So, who's the loser now?

It may not be the most mature thing to do....comparing and such, but it feels great to know that although I was honestly devastated and hit rock bottom, I am still alive, and kicking ass at it.  

Updates

She laid there. Heavy and unwilling to move. It was all a blur amid the salty residue of tears. How quickly things can change—instantly everything you know is jarred from your white-kunckled, clenched and bloodied hands. She hurt with every breath she was forced to take. Anything. Just anything to make it all go away. 6 sleeping pills in and she still laid intertwined in cold sweat and hot blankets. She refused to move, she wanted to stay frozen in hopes that she’d disappear into thin air and not have to face her new reality. The loss of love and being loved is said to be the most painful experience ever. She’d never understood before. Not until yesterday.

I laid there. Heavy and unwilling to move. Mind and heart racing while making a conscious and futile effort to disappear into the spaces of time’s forgetfulness. As I swallowed painfully all I could do was blame myself for forcing him to tell me. I know I’m the worst at talking, so WHY did I force him to talk to me? If I’d never insisted, I’d still be in his room, in his bed, among his sheets with blissful ignorance.

But that’s not how life works is it? Not for me at least. I had to push him, I had to make the effort to talk things out…I had to lose him.

Days drag on and nothing is certain. It happened on a Monday. What had I been doing, thinking, feeling? The pain of it all stabs at me from every angle. There’s a loud rattling inside my chest. My body itching for him, and hurting because he no longer wants any of it. I have now become the unloved and I hate it. So now I lay here. Heavy and unwilling to move. I don’t even know how I got here. Last I remember was having Amerie tell me with pitying eyes that she was here for me as I let the 6 sleeping pills take their effect on my loveless body. How did I get here? I can’t even bring myself to retrace my steps…or did I drag myself here?

All I could do was lay there.

4 months later.

It’s December 1^st. 11 days till the world is supposed to end and I’ve been here this whole time worrying about my broken heart. Is it pathetic? No. Well, yes but no. How about that for your typical woman answer! 4 months ago I would have given anything for a sweet, sweet visit to death’s door. Oh, no worries, my heart still hurts, and I think about J every fucking day of my life, but that doesn’t mean I let my life crumble…at least not completely. Because, unfortunately, unlike the movies we see, where girls with broken hearts go travelling and leave everything behind to find themselves and who they are meant to be…well, because I live in the real world, I can’t just up and leave my life, job, school, debt. Yep, this is life. So what did I have to do, you ask?

Day 2: you have a broken heart? Suck it up.

Man, that day was tough. Here I was, completely broken down, shattered, and aimlessly existing, and I had to drag my sorry ass to work. I’m pretty easy to spot in my kitchen. Lipstick, earrings, and boobs all wrapped up in a chef coat and apron. That is who I am at work. So when the only female shows up to work without makeup, and the reddest, puffiest eyes ever, well, let’s just say you ain’t hard to miss. That day I not only got in trouble, but I was the talk of the kitchen. Just a heads up for those of you who don’t know what the kitchen is like: BEING THE TALK OF THE KITCHEN IS NO BUENO! It never helps that you’re the only woman in there either. So, as the pitiful thing I was, I called J and told him I needed to smoke. J, being the pitiful thing he is, agreed to smoke me out. Seeing him, being near him was what I truly wanted. You see, J was like the best drug you’ll ever ever ever be addicted to. So, true to addict-form, going cold turkey was worse than death. Any chance I got to see him, be near him, hear his voice, just kept the addiction going a little longer. Honestly, I was lovesick.

Today.

I still love him, I really do. I haven’t spoken to him, seen him…actually he’s fading out of my mind as days pass and pass. I never thought it would happen but I actually have to TRY to see his face. I’m reminded of him daily, whether I want it or not. The best we can do is just take things day by day. Hope is always there. The hopefulness that he’ll change his mind…damn movies, damn Hollywood for making this ideology so prevalent. Hope is also a deceptive thing. Hope and expectations lead to disappointment. I’m still disappointed at how things turned out. But for now, it’s just me myself and…me. Working on my issues  is hard, but it’s better than expecting J to come back, because, honestly, if he hasn't come back by now, there’s no reason to expect him to come back at all.

The life of a chef is a hard one. Full of heartbreak and amazing food. It’s got it’s perks and it’s definite down-sides, but when you’re born into it, you’re bound by blood sweat and sleepless nights.

So for now, on this chilly sleepless night, all I can do,  is do what I do best, go work out. See you at the gym!

Day 3

I just had the most veggie-pumped juice ever...not my favorite but I chugged it down like it was sweet sweet booze...(how I miss you already). I figured I needed to do more juices with more veggies than fruit so today I made my juice with celery, cilantro, half a bell pepper, two tomatoes, and 1 cucumber. it was ok...with an aftertaste of celery--BLECH! BTW: i hate celery, i can't even eat it with PB.

Yesterday was a slight-relapse kind of day...i blame it on my Garde Manger class. So much good food! I had a  small taste of a few things. Other than that it was juice juice juice the rest of the day. :)

Just a heads up to any future juicers: if you take the plunge its best to have a great support group. My support group is made up of my wonderful mom, my sister and my boyfriend. they help me keep focused and keep my eye on the prize. John is my hardcore support, making sure I stay on track, and for that I'm thankful :)

Juice On Peeps!

And so it begins...Day 1

Alright so today is the first day of my 50-day juicing reboot. About two weeks ago I did a 10-day reboot. I admit the first three days were hard for me...to say the least. I'm so used to eating constantly that I found it very difficult to break the habit. I had to remind myself that I couldn't head for the fridge each time I got hungry. By the end of my 10-day reboot I felt so re-energized and alert all the time. After a week and a half break I'm going back on the reboot but this time for 50 days straight. 50 days of nothing but fresh vegetable and fruit juices and water and NOTHING else. This is just my first day and so far so good. I'll keep up with the postings as much as I can.
Till then, juice on!

Hard to accept

If i had my own show i wonder if it would be a good one. I mean, anyone watching would scoff at the scene i'm playing in now:
churro in one hand, contemplative look on my face, and redacting my own words in my head. This would ideally be a total carrie bradshaw moment, but its not.
this is me. sitting on my bed eating a churro, and hoping to god that i have the answers to my current emotional snag...
is it possible that in every relationship one person is bound to be the stronger one? the wearer of the pants? the better one? and if so, is this a healthy balance for the relationship?
1/4 of my churro later, im still pondering this.
it all started over thai milk tea with a good friend. we see each once every few months. thankfully for her and i, we are not the type of clingy girls that need to talk to each other every day. so, our  conversations are quite lengthy, naturally; in which we speak of other friends, our personal daily struggles, and for me and her, we talk about my love life (of which she is a very observant by stander).
I'm telling her about my latest issue with my boyfriend and she warns me about the corrosive and blunt comment she is about to share...plainly put she thinks i'm "DATING DOWN". as soon as the words leave her mouth i knew what she meant, but for some reason i acted like i wasn't all sure of what she said.
DATING DOWN. now im sure there are many other ways of saying this (you can do better, you're too good for him/her, he's not up to your standards, WHERE ARE your standards...the list really does go one, i kid you not) I agree, i do suppose that some one like myself--so driven, so motivated (well who am i kidding, so lack-of-a-life person) could be with someone who's got the same drive.
and days later after our very enticing proclamations about how much we prefer being women than men (one big point being that i do much prefer my sex organs inside my body rather than dangling between my legs just waiting to be sat on) this statement of hers, admittedly very blunt but to my surprise not very wrong, just snags at my insides in all the wrong places. COULD IT BE THAT JUST LIKE OPPOSITES SEEM TO BE THE BEST LOVERS, OPPOSITES MUST BE EITHER A TOP OR A BOTTOM (both sexually and relationship-wise)? And if this is so, do the tables ever change? Does the stronger, "better", upward-datee ever get a chance to be the needy, clingy, dependent one?
i mean, yeah, ideally a relationship should be 50-50, in which money fits perfectly into the equation...money, chores, marriage, shit, even who makes dinner and who goes on top tonight! But just as there are tops and bottoms in sex life, is it true as well that rarely bottoms ever top the tops?
I guess i must admit that I do wear the pants in my relationship...whether i like it or not.
but how do u fix it? if you look at your partner and despite any doubts you have, the second you see them walking around the corner and your heart just stops, you feel like a high school girl all giddish and excited, and plain and simple, you just are relieved to know that they still walk on the same earth you do, is it so bad to be the wearer of the "PANTS"?
My fear has always been to be compared to that of the demanding, domineering and ultimatum-establishing bitch of a girl friend with whom her man would much rather be without than to be leashed with. 
I have this pinching feeling like my mother and my sister are just counting the days until i fall apart. until they have to gather my shattered pieces and glue me back together like some sort of rotten humpty dumpty. i wont let this happen, i wont give up just because they thought they knew i would.
at first when i began dating HIM it was a race against my self. i worked at beating my longest relationship record of a whopping 2 months. yeah i failed at that one HARD. after half a year with HIM i knew it wasnt myself i was racing against, but the people around us. His family, my family, and every one else we came in contact with.
as sick as this sounds, i knew i loved him from day one. my heart broke when i thought he had a girl friend, my heart healed when we stood on top of the world, seeing him smile that gorgeous smile at me. my heart fluttered as we first kissed, which by god is one of the best kisses i've ever had.
now a year and a half later and i still get butterflies when i see him. my face fits perfectly in the nook of his back when we spoon.
he swears im his perfect one with such conviction its all most tangible. AND THEN THERE'S ME....good ol' female hormones, thinking, and brooding. "does he think im easy because i slept with him a week into our relationship?" "does he know i could watch him for hours and still be amazed at what i see?" "does he know i've thought about breaking up with him because things get too hard sometimes?"
Yeah, im the girl friend tha runs and hides, the one with a suitcase packed by the door. How can someone like him love someone so scatter-brained like me? yeah i got goals, i got plans, but when it comes to communicating, im the biggest man there is...i'll fix things with kisses, sex, laughter, but never with talking. He has to literally pry the words out of my mouth and by then im so shy to talk that i just say its ok.
so will it be ok? if i tell him i need more of him, if i tell him i need him to pick his shit together because i wont always be able to do it, if i tell him i refuse to be his goddam mother (or to be compared to her), if i tell him that unless i see him grow up for me, WILL THINGS BE OK?
i know if we ever broke up my heart would break into so many pieces even the best putter-back-togethers wont be able to fix my shit, but if we talked about it and still he did not change, who loved who more? or more importantly who didnt love enough?
a fifth of my churro is left and all these thought that quell inside me rip at my heart, but i cant stop thinking of him. of his gorgeous smile, his relentless love, and most of all, his complete and unfaltering faith that i could bring paradise to his hell.
this boy has me in the tangles of love. i just need a big brush to detangle and we're good to go.

Life...currently

This saturday I'm gonna go hiking with friends. So excited! I just hope i dont run into a mt. lion again. that would be unpleasant...eck. Before then i might go to six flags, so wish me luck. Dont get me wrong, i love my coasters, but six flags just seems to be a whole different thing! im not so good with plunging falls so maybe i wont eat tooooo much...we'll see.
Also, i realized that i need to really start getting back into shape. this whole weight gain is not good for anyone. i just really need some motivation. i tried on a pair of jeans i used to love to wear and they wouldnt even get past my thighs...oyyyy.
alright! i need a plan and i need to stick to it. i've been wanting to join the gym but maybe i just need to start small. eat better, excercise here at home etc. i just need to stick with it!
so far, work is fine. Im really anxious/excited/fearful of school starting and i guess it doesnt help that im going to two schools at the same time. We'll see how it all goes.
for now these are the main head lines of my life...currently