The Movement of Nothing

I’m sorry this post will be a little somber for the spirit of Christmas, but that’s the way life works anyways.

So this weekend, I found out what moving on meant. Not only what it meant but also how it felt. I found out that everyone’s ‘go to’ phrase when you’re crying at a bar with two vodka redbulls in your hands is ‘it’ll be okay’. I get that but right now it isn’t, just move the cup up to my mouth, tell me to forget about it for a while, and tell the DJ to put on Adele so I can dance and cry at the same time.

After my fiasco with crying, vodka redbulls, and a long night of long talks, I went home and laid in my bed. Heels and all and cried more. There was crying everywhere and I blamed it on running into my ex’s friend. If that son of a bitch wasn’t nice, he could have left me alone and not talked about my ex for ten minutes while I chugged my drink and nodded my head. I woke up with a terrible headache, a horrible face, and a lot of shakings of my head while I whispered ‘what the fuck Sam’ to myself multiple times. Needless to say, I hope your Saturday was better than mine.

So what did I do after a night of crying? I went on all my social networks and did what everyone is guilty of doing. Something I haven’t done in weeks and decided in my fragile state THAT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO CREEP someone who wasn’t in my life anymore. Girls can be idiots. Which leads me to my next point:
—–>>>>>I think social media has ruined the moving on process, truly. I think one of the biggest mistakes we make as human beings is trying to stay updated with someone who isn’t in our life anymore. When we find something we don’t like, it hurts us, it reminds us that were broken and were probably making no progress at all. Yesterday, I found something because I was looking for it. It was my own fault. I questioned why I even do this to myself? Why do I look on his or her twitter or instagram to see what the new update is? I don’t care; I don’t want to know so what the hell am I doing? Am I looking for an excuse to bitch? Probably. I’m a great bitcher or bitch for that matter. I go looking for it, I find it, and then I’m upset. That doesn’t make any sense.  Well, I found something alright and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I ate a pizza in my room in the dark and my mom didn’t even question me. A hundred things ran through my head once I saw a new picture of my ex with his new girlfriend. But not one of them were positive. If you feel negative, you will only think of the negative, I’ve learned. My mom popped her head into my room and told me to come downstairs but all I wanted to do was sleep and think about getting drunk tomorrow. I hauled my ass out of my bed and my mom turned on the loudest Mexican music I’ve ever heard and started dancing. I had no idea what was even going on while she tried to do the washing machine from Selena. She grabbed my hands and made me dance with her and I laughed for a half hour straight. She never let me stop dancing and we never stopped laughing.

That is what moving on feels like. It stabs you in the heart so you can feel it all, but in moments, you’re laughing until you realize how sad you still are. Those moments are what I call physic moments. You’re seeing into the future. There will come a time where those moments will be your life and the sad thoughts will be replaced with some new sad thought or worry. I was happy until the dancing stopped and I was stuck in my room again. Then something else happened. I got a call from someone very important in my life lately who was scaring me all day saying we needed to talk. The cherry on top of the fucking ice cream. When he finally called, I sat on my mom’s bed with a lump in my throat. ‘I just wanted to say I miss you’ he said and repeated throughout our conversation. I was smiling again. I was pissed off but I was smiling. Here was someone who just made me happy for the rest of the day and I was so grateful for him to an extent he will never know. Within my day of sad realizations, there were always moments to remind me that I don’t live in the past and I’m living in this now where things are happening. Then I remembered… so is my ex. So are the people in my past, they are living in this now too.

Realizations…

Seeing the picture of my ex and his new girlfriend isn’t the end of my life. The negative thoughts I’m telling myself are entirely my fault. This morning my friend told me ‘I think the picture is a sign telling you that its okay to let go, that he’s going to be okay and that you are too.’  Yeah, within all my negative and sad thoughts, there was a positive one. Seeing things like that shouldn’t make us want to live in the past, it should make us realize that sometimes you’re better off letting go then reminiscing and here is your sign. If you go looking for it, you’re going to find it, bad news or good; and that goes for anything in life. Be careful with the access to unwanted or wanted knowledge. There is my rant, there is my beauty in letting go, thank you for living in my past moments, start living in your nows.

God is in the Pancakes

Happy Thanksgiving or whatever day you’re reading this everyone! I need to get the monkey off my back and just goes balls out of my first post. Is ‘getting the monkey off my back’ even a saying? Mind you it’s 5am on Thanksgiving and I’m sitting in a dark room listening to Cold Play right now while trying to, nonchalantly, take pictures of my bunny sleeping. Perfect time to transition into my topic, I’d say.

Yes, apparently this is a thing.

             Holy hell, who wants to take advice from me with an intro like that? This is a break-up entry because dealing with one is worse but making the same excuses for a dying relationship is a lot worse.

The Folk you will Encounter during a Break-Up

1. The Fuckher/him: This is not the person who is so infuriated with their ex that everyone else sucks just as much as their ex and they want nothing to do with anyone; this is the person who can’t seem to keep in their pants long enough so they trick the goods into thinking its still in a relationship with something.

The ugly truth:
 

 

In all honesty: At some point during all the pointless flirting and sex you will hear a song that you’ve tried so hard to forget, and I promise it will not be making you think of that person the other week who’s name may have started with a J or an A.

2. The Miley: Someone who cuts, dyes, or buzzes their hair; buys a new wardrobe, gets their nails done, waxes their body, gets facials, and hell why not, throw in a nose job.

The ugly truth: Congratulations! You look hot, but just because you look like a completely different person, doesn’t mean you are a completely different person and it most certainly does not mean that you’re dealing with a completely different break up.

3. The Invisibility Cloak: Also known as “The Repressor”: What break up? I’m fine. Never happened. Don’t talk about it. I’m okay.
The ugly truth: Unfortunately, it DID happen, and you DO need to talk about it or else one day you will explode at the most unfortunate time. Possibly at a busy restaurant, where you look over to the people next to you and you notice one of them is holding their fork the same way your ex held their fork and that triggers something and before you know it, you’re sobbing into your ribs. The break up process starts a  lot later and will take a heavier toll.

Note* I didn’t put “The crier” because those people cry so much for a month or two about it and realize they’re all cried out and ready to move on. People tend not to want to be little bitches for a long period of time, and honestly, no one wants to be around that either.

              The invisibility cloak is where my personal story begins. How could I write about break ups and solutions without having any personal experience, right? Unfortunately, as time would tell, my break up is a little over recent but still pretty new to me. I read somewhere that it takes half the time you dated someone, to get over him or her. In my case that would be a year and a half and I didn’t have the time or want in my life to deal with that, so I didn’t. It was an emotionless break up for me and I probably seemed like a cold-hearted bitch at the time it ended. I didn’t cry about anything; I didn’t talk about it; I avoided all areas, which would make me think about him; I blocked him off all social medias; I burned all of our memories without flintching. I didn’t listen to sad music, in fact, I barely listened to music; I even stopped writing. It was over and I was better off letting it go and never looking back.

It’s funny how strong people see you when you do things like that. When you act like something doesn’t faze you in the least bit. I was ‘strong’ and I believed it. It wasn’t until a month or two ago, when I looked back at my tumblr that I realized I had a sad bitch deep in my soul that I wasn’t letting out. Everything was morbid; sad, mad, or hateful. I ignored the realization and decided to start listening to music again, only to later realize that all I was listening to was Adele and a station on my Pandora called ‘Sad Songs’ radio. I started sleeping more and losing my drive to go to class. Everything was slow motion all of a sudden and I couldn’t put my finger on why. I figured I was itching to visit somewhere or go see something but that only made me realize that I had such a want to run away.

Things like this would happen occasionally

It wasn’t until I went to my British Lit class where my teacher spoke about an opportunity, to write a letter to someone who’s passed away or is alive but write as if they have passed away, for extra credit. The second he proposed it, I turned to the back of my spiral and started writing a letter to him: my ex. Before I knew it, my throat stung and my vision obscured from my eyes filling with tears. I went into the bathroom and sobbed like a child for easily a half hour. I had never felt like Ron Burgundy more in this moment. I was one with the feeling of being in a glass case of emotion.  Knowing I was going to go back into my classroom with swollen eyes, I put my head down, grabbed my stuff, and excused myself from the rest of class.

Real photo of actual event in bathroom stall.

It was raining when I got outside and I felt like I was in a really depressing movie as I walked in the pouring rain, crying, listening to Adele. I really wish someone could have video taped me for a music video or something because that is exactly how it probably looked. Actually, probably not, I’m a hideous crier and was doing a weird walk/run so I could get home faster. When I got home, I came to terms with that fact that I had for sure repressed my break up and it was biting me in the ass, hard. Now what?

NOW WHAT IN-FUCKING-DEED. Meeting someone new, changing myself, or any other alternative was not going to work anymore. I had to DEAL with the NOW of my emotions. The last thing anyone should ever do, HEED MY WARNING, is text your ex because you’re feeling down. I knew I couldn’t text him but what do you do when the one person you used to talk to when you ever felt this down, is gone? I wrote. I wrote letters upon letters to him that I know he would never read but it was an opportunity to talk to him again, to get everything I needed to say, out. The feelings that you’re supposed to have right when you break up were all coming to me now. My life hurt without him, physically. I woke up thinking about him, tried all day not to think about him, went to bed, only to wake up and do it all over again. It was exhausting but that was the process. It wasn’t until the other week I realized I was writing a paper with our song playing in the background. The beauty of it was that the song was already towards the end and I hadn’t noticed it until then.

            I know the song thing doesn’t seem very big but it is a very big step for me. I knew the letters I wrote to him would eventually dwindle; they will eventually stop all together one day. As much as anyone will deny it, our hearts love to be dramatic, it gets our blood racing. So, be dramatic within yourself, feel it all, who cares? Thats how life happens people: it fucks you and you deal with it wether you want to or not. Life’s helping hand is time, take it, bask in it.

*If you’re interested in seeing the depressing Tumblr I was talking about in my post, heres the link. I’m naturally a dark soul with a sunshine outlining so take me as I am. Fabulous.

Tumblr: samii-love.tumblr.com