Pandora's box

SPOILER: The essence of this entry is not to facebook-stalk your romantic interest.

So, I may have opened Pandora's box by clicking my way through facebook.

Since getting back from Jay's this weekend, his friends and I have been adding each other on Fb and I've been privy to seeing pictures of Jay and his life.  Since Jay deactivated his facebook account, this is the only glimpse I have into his life!

Picture after picture, I've been able to see images of him throughout the years! 2014, 2012, 2009... Suddenly, I see pictures of him and his ex-girlfriend.  Couple-y pictures, fun pictures. But even more uncomfortable are pictures of them in his living room-- the exact living room I was in, and the exact sofa I was sitting on, merely 24 hours ago.

I feel nauseous seeing those pictures and wonder if that is the reason he isn't on facebook anymore. Is it because he still likes her and can't bear to see pictures of her on Fb? Although their breakup was amicable, does keeping each other's pictures on fb have any additional emotional meaning on either one of their parts? I mean, they've been in each other's lives for the last decade.  DECADE! How do you erase one another out of your lives, just like that? How do you stop feeling for that person, especially if the break-up wasn't painful whatsoever?

What's to stop them from getting back together?
Is it only a matter of time before Jay realizes he wants to be back together?

I'm not sure if my mind is running away or if I'm onto something scarily true.  When I saw those pictures, I experienced the same emotional reaction as seeing emails that B. had written other women when I caught him cheating on me.  It's the same exact feeling, as though I've been betrayed. My heart feels like it literally dropped down, split open and there's no air to be found.

I can't breathe.

Swinging from extreme emotions

I am emotionally reactive now and all of last night because Jay has not responded to my text at 8pm last night, or to my phone call at 10pm after I got out of work.

It is now 9am and I feel livid and fearful.  Livid because I've been ignored and discarded. Fearful because I wonder if something has happened to him.

My pendulum swings in extremes: anger, fear, anger, fear, anxious anxious anxious.  There is no middle ground unless sadness is the middle ground.

10 minutes ago, I saw his name pop-up in green in google chat, meaning... he's alive!  And my fear quells and my anger goes up.  Seconds later, my anger goes down, and sadness enters the scene.  Is he choosing to ignore me then? Is he consciously deciding not to respond to me?  Cue self-doubt: Did I do something bad to change his feelings from liking me to not caring about me at all? Return to scene: anxiety.

This is how the cycle works.  It is a series of pendulum swings, cycling from one negative emotion to another, until exhaustion takes over me and I go to sleep.

(photo courtesy thanks to: life & science)

My anxiety is eating me alive.

Yup, just read the heading: my anxiety is eating me alive.

I decided last Friday (at the last minute), that I wouldn't drive down to see Jay. It was a difficult decision to make, but my body expressed sheer exhaustion, thus forcing me to be true to what I really needed.  He was actually perfectly OK with my decision and still excited that I'd be coming the following weekend. Whew.

With the weekend devoted to myself, I did a lot of self-care. I slept early, prepared groceries and cooked for the week, spent much-needed time with friends, and basically regained my pre-boyfriend social lifestyle.  It was great. AND I missed him immensely.

I've been missing him a lot, and it saddens, angers, and frightens me. Being attached to someone is terrifying because the outcomes of past experiences have been so devastating. So far, I've kept my guard up with Jay. He hasn't seen my insecurities. He has yet to see me cry.  It makes honest conversations very difficult to have because I can't imagine talking about the future without revealing both of those dirty parts of me.  Yes, I said it. Logically, it makes no sense. But emotionally, I feel ashamed to have so much anxiety and fear about our relationship, and about any romantic relationship in general.

So, for the last 5 days or so, I've been immersed in insecurity. I wonder if he continues to like me. I fear he has lost his feelings for me or gotten used to my presence. I'm scared he's planning a future without me.  It's so rare to feel so powerless because unlike other times, I'm not the one leaving; I have no control over the outcome or process. 


Funnily enough, I also realize that part of my anxiety is not knowing what my future holds based on what I want. Do I want to stay in this rural community? Do I want to return to the big city? Could I be happy here, and would my decision to stay-put have to do with Jay, entirely?  Those big questions also circle me and the anxiety is overwhelming.

How much of this anxiety is about my decision to make?

And how much of this anxiety is about his decisions and its impact on me?




(link to everyday feminism's: how to have a healthy long distance relationship)

I am love-able challenge: Day 1

I am love-able because...

...
...
...

Um, this project is way harder than anticipated. It took me a few minutes longer to fall asleep last night because I was ransacking my brain for something anything to write for today.

Half a day later, I am still empty-handed.


Oh! I got it!

This morning, I called to make reservations at a fancy restaurant for me & Jay this Friday night (Valentine's day!). This will be my first Valentine's Day celebration, being with a the person that I am in a relationship with!  In the past, I've either celebrated it via long-distance dating, or not at all because my ex-boyfriend was disgusted by these "stupid American capitalistic holidays."  It didn't matter to him that I loved the romance, the excitement, the drama, and the overemphasis placed on being extra lovey-dovey for an entire day.

Jay has no idea what I have planned for him: a pre-set meal that involves appetizer, salad, main course, and a dessert in a nice restaurant with live music! I also got him some expensive bicycle lights as a gift. I did my some thorough research on the best kind of lights for commuter biking. I also made this decision without getting the OK from Jay's brother. For Jay's birthday last month, I picked out the perfect present for him thanks to brotherly input. This time, I'm taking a significant risk by going with my gut instinct.

I am surprised by my own proactive decision to make plans for Friday night! I wonder how much this has to do with being in a secure and happy relationship. Because for the most part, that's what being with Jay has been like (outside of my head, that is). I have decided take risks by:

- planning our dinner date
- getting him a vday present
- writing him an awesome card (I already have it planned out what I'll say)

In taking this risks, I have my answer for this challenge!

I am loveable because... I am willing to take risks in the name of love!

I am willing to put my heart on-the-line and take a non-traditional gender role approach to being the planner, the one who will wine-and-dine my beau, and to sweep him off of his feet! I even have the lingerie planned for the night, so it will be a night of sweet romance and candle-light sexiness! :)

There are so many ways the night can go wrong-- and the risks feel pretty mortifying. Want to know my fears? To begin, he might think I'm too over-the-top, dramatic, and wasteful. I am spending quite a lot of money on this dinner (even if it's the most affordable and best-value-option!). Perhaps he might even think I'm trying to buy his love by showering him with all of this wonderfulness! In contrast to how he feels about me, he could also perceive me as being overly-attached and making too much meaning out of our relationship. It's been only 4 months that we're together, and maybe he doesn't see the point of having such a big celebration for such a short courtship so far? He might find me too warm and fuzzy and unrealistic about love and relationships.

There is so much at risk and it is terrifying (but liberating to write it all out!). It's for the reasons that I consider myself love-able and even bordering on being brave! Go, me!

What happens in my head... stays in my head.

My insecurities increased exponentially after my parents and Jay met. I feared Jay would cut me out, drop me like a ball, or run for the hills. I expected one or all of the above.

However, he remained... the same.
He still texted.
He still called.
He still flirted.
It was like nothing changed.

But I changed. Me. I began panicking and returning to my old real self. One night, I felt my anxiety skyrocket when he didn't text me back immediately. I had called him and it went straight to voicemail. Of course, knowing me, I checked on gchat and saw him flick from orange to green. I held my breath. He did not text or call me back. Fear settled in before coursing out and being replaced with sadness and loss. I began to think what it would be like to return to the dating world and starting over from scratch. Bye, Jay. I wonder which lucky girl gets to meet you next. Who did I think I was, rejecting the word "boyfriend" when that could actually be taken away from me?

... a few hours later, he texted to say he fell asleep and was sorry to have missed my call. "No worries," I casually said, and we moved on to talk about our day.
It was like nothing changed.
He has no idea what all went through my head during that waiting period.
And he never will!

Day 6 Back Home

Despite being immersed in love letters from the past, I decide tonight that it is critical for me to be objective and rational.  I am going to follow Jen's advice by embracing my feelings.  And in order to embrace how I feel, I have to fully accept all that was in my relationship with Robert.  I have to take not only the good, but also the bad.

So, tonight, I flip through all of my old journals to try and find the actual journal that I wrote-in when he and I broke up.  I am very regretful of not documenting that break-up.  I think it was so painful and intense at the time, that I just could not and was not able to write anything.  I knew that I wrote a very short entry somewhere and I was determined to find it.

The entry is dated 7/4/2004 and it is two days after our 2 year anniversary.  I am so dramatic and yet so honest at the same time.  I wrote "It is over. We are over. There is no longer a 'we' anymore. My heart is totally broken."  In my journal entry, I wrote that Robert has completely changed and is now condescending, impatient, intolerant, dismissive, and detached.  I quoted him saying: "Whether you like it or not, I am more independent now and no longer as attached to you as before." He also said to me, "I don't know if I can be with someone who is so insecure that I have to constantly explain things to her."

I am slowly remembering these conversations now and the context of these conversations.  It's no wonder I didn't call him back or want a reconciliation afterwards.  I did not want to seek him out because he was being an asshole but I missed him nevertheless.  It's still a blur to me, how we got to where we were.  All I remember was it being the summer of my sophomore year in college.  I was so busy with research.  He was so busy juggling school and work.  We were having less and less quality conversations on the phone and one of our last talks was him saying he felt "more emotionally distant" from me.  I had been very upset with his use of the word "more."  Why "more"?  Was there much to begin with that I had been unaware of?  We are surely physically distanced from each other, but I didn't know we were emotionally distant.  Why use the word "more?"  In retrospect, I think I should not have harped on this word choice, because our subsequent fight was simply unnecessary and completely provoked by me.  I remember Robert being SO upset about my picking apart his words and being SO pissed at me for reading so much into what he was saying.  Yes, I have a tendency to do that.  And I now realize that insecurity has ALWAYS been a problem for me.  So much of a problem that maybe this is why Robert didn't want to put up with me afterwards, maybe?

Nevertheless, I remember coming home after the summer research program and having some time to spend with Robert before going abroad to visit extended family.  It was during that time at home that we really started to explode or fizzle (however way you want to look at it). It was then that we broke up.  I remember having our 2 year anniversary together and not having it be great.  I also remember-- vaguely-- having a dinner together and crying through it because Robert had said "we need to talk."  I remember, still vaguely, that it was a very weird and confusing conversation.  Robert had told me that he loved me but that things were changing.  He said he was different now and he wasn't the same as before. He couldn't elaborate more on what that meant and I automatically started freaking out and wondering what that meant for us.  What's different now? Why isn't he the same as before? What has changed? How does it affect us? Does it affect his feelings for me?  I remember Robert saying that he still loved me and still wanted us, but that he was different now.  I didn't get it.  I completely did not get it.  But we were going round and round in circles and it just did not make sense to me.  Eventually I went home, confused as all hell.  And I guess I continue to be as confused today, just not as emotionally invested, perhaps.

I also know that one of our last fights was on the day of our 2-year anniversary and I had been utterly disappointed by his disinterest in me. We watched the movie, The Butterfly Effect, and when I tried to cuddle with him and to hug and kiss him, he was quite unresponsive.  He was apathetic about being intimate together whereas I could hardly contain celebrating our anniversary together with some physical love! Anyways, it was very humiliating for me to be physically (and passively) rejected for my advances toward him and I automatically felt like he was rejecting me.  I felt rejected.  I felt that he wasn't interested anymore, and of course, my insecurity shot straight up and I flipped out.  That's basically one of our last fights ever, I suppose.  We saw each other one more time but we basically said little to each other.  In my effort to rectify us, I called him to fulfill our earlier plans to go to the beach and for me to be the chauffeur of our trip. That drive was terrible and Robert had been critical, bossy, and condescending about my driving.  Right before arriving at the beach, we switched seats and he drove home with us in complete silence for about 40 minutes.  We said nothing to each other and that was that.  We were over.

Sigh.  Insecurity.  MY insecurity. Was that one of the reasons we broke up? Has that baggage been with me for so long that I didn't even realize its pervasiveness in my first relationship? This question is like asking which came first: the chicken or the egg?  Did my insecurity come into full force because he seemed so different and apathetic to me and our relationship?  Or was my insecurity always there and exploded into full force and made him feel like he was too exhausted by me?

Whatever the reason is, I can now feel the frustration, anger, confusion, and sadness that I felt 7 years ago.  I remember those feelings now, and I can acknowledge now that Robert changed and was different from the person who wrote me those beautiful love letters. I was probably different too, although I think I've always been the same.  Perhaps Robert realized something about me that I am only slowly starting to realize.  Because the honest truth is that I did not get it.  Ever.  I did not understand what Robert was saying and I needed more and different explanations to help me know what was happening to him, to us, to me.  As exasperated as he was to explain things to me, I know that this is me and my limitations as a person.  If I don't understand something, then I need to keep asking until I get it.  I need to hear it explained several times in several different ways, and I need patience, empathy, respect, and some tolerance for my inability to comprehend what feels so emotionally intense and overwhelming.  I suppose no amount of love letters can erase the fact that we did grow apart from one another, that we fought like cats and dogs and were unable to understand each other, and that we did eventually break up.