Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Enjoy the single life today, at least it means you get to give yourself exactly what you wanted for the holidays, which is what I did.
Month: December 2014
The Double Edged Sword of Hope
I would be full of shit if I said getting over WK and moving on from the break up came easy. In fact, I was so incredibly miserable at first that even getting out of bed sounded unmanageable. It was the first time I have ever felt broken.
At the time I was living in my first apartment with one roommate. She was basically an angel for being able to put up with me. We could be sitting around watching TV and out of no where I was suddenly crying (which if anyone recalls, is something I don’t do often). I didn’t want to eat, simply because I didn’t have an appetite. I barely wanted to go out and do anything, and having to go to classes was an ordeal as well. It didn’t help that I had the constant nagging feeling that there was more to why this break up happened than I knew about. It also didn’t help that following the break up, WK and I did not cut all ties immediately. In the time after the break up, we still talked on the phone at least once a day, and texted each other all the time. Not healthy behavior for two people who just broke up. But this behavior and the pattern we fell into made me believe that we still had a chance to be together. Hell, I knew I was going to visit him on the east coast for spring break because he convinced me to not cancel my trip.
Quick recap, WK had told me that we were breaking up because “God didn’t want us together”.
My gut just told me there was more to it than that. Much like Olivia Pope, my gut is pretty much never wrong. Intuition and feeling is something that I generally feel pretty confident in trusting, some exceptions to this to come in future posts. The fact that I just knew something was off made accepting the break up that much harder. I began to obsess over what I did to cause this to happen, and then began to explore what I could do to be better.
6 Reasons Why Being Single during the Holidays isn’t All that Bad
The One That Starts It All
No matter how old you are or how many people you have dated, you never forget your first real love. For some of us it happens in high school, others college, and even some others later in life. Mine happened in college, my first year in college to be exact; and almost immediately after arriving on campus. He wasn’t someone I met when I got to college, we had met before, through a mutual friend (who happened to be my roommate and best friend); we lived relatively close to each other back home and during our senior year of high school, had been in pretty close social circles.
The first time I met him, was actually at his graduation party. I showed up, uninvited, and somewhat intoxicated. At 17, the idea of celebrating your last day of high school with some flavored vodka seemed to be greatest idea ever. However, I would never recommend attending graduation parties that you were not invited to and have never really met the person who is throwing the party; aside from the fact that drinking at the age of 17 is illegal, you will probably not make the best first impression. At this party I ended up sitting under a tree for a good couple of hours, and kept yelling at people to stop talking. I did meet the graduate, and apparently didn’t come off too terribly.
Fast forward to 3 months later on the campus of a Mid-Michigan University. He, who we will now call WK, was one of the few people from home that also chose to trek up the state to this particular school. WK was living with one of his best friends from high school, and since we all already knew each other, naturally we started to spend a lot of time together. WK and I ended up having our first class together, out of pure luck (I came to find this as a “sign” later on down the road). It didn’t take long for me to realize I had a major crush on WK, and how much better could it get that I knew I would see him in class and he seemed to love spending time with me. By the mid point of the semester on the days we had this class, we were pretty inseparable. WK and I would meet up in class (if he hadn’t already come to meet me to walk together, we would then stay pretty close to each other the rest of the day, only separating when we had other classes to go to or had other commitments, like club meetings. Still at this point we were not an official couple, but instead just severely dancing around the fact that we both wanted to be.
I'd Rather be Single. 