About me, E

So, we're doing these about the author posts.  So you get an idea of who will be giving these tidbits, pieces of advice, etc.  We'll see how this one goes.

Generally, I'm a twenty-something girl, fiercely independent, trying to find a job with a degree that wants to put me in a box (but, as I like to say, a very well-decorated box).  I'm not materialistic, though I have an obsession with scarves.  A huge amount of my clothes are second hand and I buy nothing unless it is on sale.  I didn't pay for any of the furniture in my apartment (aside from my mattress, that would be gross).  I'm an ardent environmentalist, but can't always afford to stick by my guns.  I'm working on finding more cost-effective ways to eat green (probs going to join at CSA this summer and start a garden).  Anyway, that's me, very generally.

Since this is a blog about love/dating.  That's where the real story lies, and I have a long one to tell.  About 4 months ago, I got out of a serious, LTR.  We'd been together for 4 1/2 years and ditching that was the best decision I've ever made.  I keep waiting for the moment I break down and cry, and it never happened.  I had one day, a week after he and I broke up that I cried, when I got rid of all the things he gave me (well, put it all in a box in my roommate's closet), but that's about it.  It lasted all of an hour (if that).

I guess I should start from the beginning.  This guy and I met in high school.  We were close friends and started dating the way most people in high school do.  Go to a movie, come home, make out and TA-DA, you're together.  2 years into things, we were doing alright.  There were some major problems, but I chose to ignore them (as in, he was pretty controlling with things like not allowing me to get any more tattoos and other things like that but I let him do that.  A month after we broke up, I just got a great tattoo and plan on getting a few more).  We were close with each others families, everything was great and, in a freak accident, he experiences a life-altering injury.  After that, he became angry.  He got a victim mentality.  The world out to get him.  He also won a lawsuit (as he should have.  My family and I encouraged him to file the suit and he deserved it).  However, the settlement he received would lead to later problems (now, he's relying on the money, doesn't plan to work, etc.).  Anyway, he'll deny up and down that nothing changed after the injury, but that's just not true.  He had always been an angry person.  I mean scary angry (when I got my first tattoo, which was a few months after we first started dating, he broke his hand in anger punching something).  Anyway, all of this leads to his destructive behavior.  He let his stupid friends control his life and tried to live up to their expectations.  By the end of our relationship, he was an alcoholic and a pot head and a smoker.  If you know me well at all, this is a problem.  And no, it's not my job to fix that.  Never, ever think it's your job.

We had a lot of fun together.  We went on trips.  We had great sex (until the end).  He made me laugh (until the end, when I could tell he just hated me).  He told me I was pretty (until the end, when he stopped trying and cared more about his stupid friends than me).

I remember the moment, exact moment, I stopped loving him.  We were in a huge fight.  I had gone to visit him for my birthday (I guess I didn't mention that we were long distance.  Went to different colleges after high school that are 5 hours apart).  We were talking about what his new "philosophy on life" was.  It wasn't really a philosophy, but more a series of excuses for alcohol addiction and childish decisions.  Still, I calmly let him explain himself.  Then, I explained to him how I felt.  How it hurt me to see him make these destructive decisions because I cared about him.  He then laughed in my face.  I called him an asshole.  He walked out and then got drunk with his friends.  I stopped loving him that moment.  Still, it took me a month to realize that things finally needed to end.

In an LTR, it's really hard to end things.  For the last 6 months, the only thing holding us together was "it's been 4 years, we have to make it work"  My lesson for all of you is that this is not Project Runway.  You don't "Make it Work."  Relationships do take some work.  Yes, they take compromise, but they don't take sacrifice.

Stress no longer exists in my life.  I don't let it.  My only regret is that I didn't end things sooner.  I would have been much happier much sooner.  Now I have freedom to be with my friends.  To go out and flirt and have fun.  I am open to flirting and fun and love, real love, not stress and work.

So now, I flirt, I date, and I'm learning what it means to be a single twenty-something and LOVING IT!