How’s it going?
This weekend was ok. Saturday felt like at least 4 different days. I drove up to Lynwood with my friend Dennis and looked for treasures at various Goodwills and thrift shops. Then we met up with our friend Anh for lunch, then played a little hacky sac. Then I tried to hang out with my friend Ashley but she was already super drunk at 5 pm. I am not a caregiver.
I feel bad… I know she is really unhappy here but I just don’t know how to help. I am a firm believer that if there are things you want, you take the steps to get the things you need. In her case, I honestly think if she could quit drinking and use that time to apply herself to what she really wants she’d have a better time. I dunno. I just know I’m too old to get that drunk… And she’s drunk every time I try to hang out with her.
I watched this foreign movie about love last night. There were these two people that met, and essentially their respective partners cheated on them with the other’s partner. The thing that stood out to me was that they discussed how when people decide that a relationship is over its because they can do better than the person they are with.
With this in mind, my last few partners think that they can do better than me. I’ve never really talked about Ted (have I?), so I guess now is a good time.
I had been dating this guy, Joel, back in Chicago. Except, he didn’t want to claim me as his girlfriend. One time we were at a show at the Fireside bowling alley and we were talking to one of his friends at the bar. The bartender asked, “Beer for your girlfriend?” and he said “She’s not my girlfriend.” Joel’s friend said “Oh, you’re just the girl he fucks.” I walked out and cried on the side of the building.
Then I rode my bike to Annie Sloan’s apartment and we watched the Joy Division movie and drank wine.
A few weeks later I went to visit Alex in New York, but I slept through my first flight and had to get on a later one. It had a connecting flight through Raleigh, North Carolina. At the airport bar I met an older Australian gentleman. I told him about Joel and he told me to be done with him. So, after my trip I went home and ended things with Joel in an email.
I felt free, for once. I figured maybe I wanted to move to Brooklyn. I don’t know. I’m not just some girl you fuck.
Then, a week later my friend Kaitlin had a birthday party. I was having a good time and in walked this boy who kinda glowed and I pointed and said “I want that one.” That was Ted and we ended up dating for 3.5 years.
He was my best friend for a lot of that time, but there were things I never knew. There were things I should have known. I spent the first 3 years thinking I would marry him, and that last .5 trying to convince myself I still felt that way. I called him Panda and he called me Koala. We had great Halloween costumes… One year we were Finn and Jake from Adventure Time. One year we were the kids from Moonrise Kingdom.
But at the end, we just wanted different things. In the easiest breakup ever, I told him “I don’t want to be in a relationship with you,” and he said “Ok.” I guess he thought he deserved a better person than me.
The thing is, I think I’m pretty awesome. Sure, I’m a little bit of an acquired taste, but I’m pretty solid. I go after the things I want. I’m a woman of my word. I take care of myself to the best of my ability. I am always trying to grow or be better.
But I’m so lonely. Should I have stuck out that symbiotic companionship? No, but damn. I miss having someone to spend Saturdays with. I have all these male friends who don’t even feel the passing of time like I do, and think we all have so much time. And this is our real life! And it just keeps happening whether we want it to or not.
And Ted, this human I loved (and still do) doesn’t respond to phone calls or texts so it’s like the 4 year chunk of our lives never happened. Though, because it happened I’m now in my 30s and single instead of married and working on a family. And my best friend from that time prefers to pretend that I don’t even exist.
But the winter will wash what is left of the taste.
So perhaps I don’t really exist. I’m not good enough to claim, or fight for. I’m just some girl you fuck.