healing

breaking up. even under the best of circumstances, there's that tearing away of the familiar and comfortable. there is also that sensation of not being loved. despite your best efforts and intentions, it wasn't good enough. and when it is a bad breakup, you look back and try to remember -- was it ever good? our relationship was spawned through social networking, so it is someone fitting that it ended that way to. The internet age. December of 2003 he messaged me on Friendster and March of 2008 I flared out on Facebook. Looking back at old messages preserved in sent mail of years past, I know it was. It was crazy and passionate and fun and hot. It was also always hard in between the fun. I guess later the hard times started to outweigh the crazy passionate ones...

Again, today was good. and extremely bad. I started a freelance job doing boards for digital kitchen and was asked to interview at apple. I took yoga and played frisbee in the park with michael and took sake to the dog park. I found myself bursting in to tears at least 4 or 5 times -- and then it passed each time. I decided in the morning that I should go to new zealand to visit dacia and cheryl, in the mid afternoon that I should head for minneapolis, and then a few hours later that I should just get an apt in SF indefinitely. SF is very very good. I have enough friends here that I could go out every night of the week with a different one and be set from monday through the weekend and beyond -- there's no city that comes anywhere near that except for LA, the obvious favorite.

I woke up this morning from a dream that has a very familiar theme. I had dreamed many times about Eric being with someone else. In early and middle days (is that how the relationship is to be divided up?) that would end with me waking up and looking over at at him and saying I had a horrible dream. He would periodically do the same thing. WE would comfort eachother and say how it would never happen. How it could never happen.

I woke up from an uncomfortable scenario, sitting at a table with the LACDC people. Eric was sitting next to her. I think I spent most of the dream trying to get his attention. It was someone's birthday, and there was a cupcake. It was pushed in front of me, where I sat alone at the head of one end of the table, somewhat uncomfortable. The rest of the people were clustered at the other end -- not unlike when we were at a wrap party in real life. I took the cupcake and pushed it away from me. "Why'd you have to do that?" "It's not mine, I hate cupcakes." I sat there alone and ignored and jealous for a little longer and then I took the cupcake that had began to break up when it tipped over, and I slowly formed the doughy substance into snowball/doughballs and began to throw it at the two of them. After a couple, I started hitting them. They looked a little disturbed,but continued to goof around, only occasionally throwing me dirty looks. Eventually I went over there and sat at that end, and saw the looks on their faces. I saw myself in the reflection of a glass pane behind them. I was wearing high heeled boots and looking pretty good. Then I woke up and was sad. AT least I don't have to be sad from a dream like that again. Fuck him and his absense. And the way he withheld affection but didn't let me go. I was strangled for months. I almost started crying when I woke up. My face crumpled up in the precursor motion. But then nothing came. I absolutely don't love him anymore. I actually do hate him. But he still has the power to hurt me, even from within my psyche, even though I have run away and will never see him again. How do I get rid of this need to get answers and understand? I still don't.

What is there to understand. He just fell for someone else. But why did he do that to me? How could he perpetuate a myth that made me feel inadequate, insufficient, ugly, undesirable, in the wrong, crazy? I don't want him out of my life, but I can't forgive him. I have to cut him off. There's still so much bile to work through.

And then the crazy twist. Reynard calls me up and tells me eric was hit by a car today. wtf. I didn't want him to be hurt, but in a way I did. Not hurt badly, but hurt, in a way that I've hurt. Minor injuries that would force him to stay in bed and contemplate his world while he was healing and before he was deemed perfectly fine. It somehow seemed karmic. The teflon man I called him, nothing ever sticks to you, everyone loves eric even when he fucks them over. I know it makes me horrible, but I guess as long as I've posted every other intimate detail, I can implicate my own bad thoughts. I am very glad he is ok. I have been trying to find out all night, and just got the all clear text message back from donham. but in the poetic way of dreams invading reality and reality invading dreams, something seems to make a sick sort of sense.

I can't help but look back. I am a little obsessed with the past. My ical is detailed to an extreme degree, and I had handmade calendars in college, and monthly planners in high school before that. I look back and wonder when the rehearsals became dates. The distance in our relationship started almost exactly when the dance show did. When I came back from South America and it was like I was a nuissance rather than a welcome companion. Eric said it began only shortly before we went to japan, but I bet it was far earlier. I'm betting early November. But these are useless activities that distract me from my work in the same way that looking up those early text messages and frantic excited crazypassionate ims does.

Are all relationships destined to be this way? Begin in crazy passion, end in withdrawal? I think the crazy passion does end eventually, but then it must be replaced by something more meaningful -- a partnership with a deep and underlying passion, not a crazy-new-obsession. And ultimately, both parties are ready to make that leap or they're not. If they are, they must constantly tend the relationship, watering it and nurturing it so the plant doesn't wither away. And if they're not, they look for the crazy-new once again.

I am looking forward to dating. I told Eric that on Valentine's Day, that I was looking forward to when we were apart because I was looking forward to having someone around again. I missed regular sex. I missed companionship. I missed bike rides and going to museums. I missed having someone there for me. He acted hurt. and I said -- I miss who you once were. I want to meet you all over again. and he said I miss me too. oh, bitterness now -- how he said that when he was doing all those things with someone new I don't know. I don't think I'll ever get in his head to find out.

but dating. Michael and his ilm friends, Ziah and her pixar friends, brad and his berkeley neuroscience friends. I figure my friend linked dating pool in sf is better than anywere else I could be. I guess I can give that a try. I don't really remember what it's like or even the point of it, but I can give it a try. I'm not used to thinking of myself as available. I automatically deflect any and all overtures. It will be an experiment. If I was cheesy and silly, I might say it was a new day adventure.

but I would never do that.