Lyrics, Love, & Life

Now and then I think of when we were together, like when you said you felt so happy you could die. I told myself that you were right for me, but felt so lonely in your company. That was love and it’s an ache I still remember… So when we found that we could not make sense, well you said that we would still be friends, but I’ll admit that I was glad that it was over.

How do you know when to let go versus when you should hold on and fight for the person you love? And why is it that, in some cases, simply loving someone isn’t enough to keep a practically perfect relationship together?

Let’s rewind about 6 months. It was November and I was reaching the one-year mark of being single: a new record for me. I have always been the type of girl to need a relationship of some sort to define myself, but in that year, I had dated but never let myself get serious with anyone. The previous relationship had left me pretty bruised and with a lot of sore spots to ultimately change. I didn’t like the girl it had turned me into and, rather, worked to be the woman I had always hoped to be.

Cue Mitch. Mitch was quirky, adorable, and nerdy in the best ways possible. He was driven and moving up within the chain of command at his work and seemed to have a level head on his shoulders. We ended up rescheduling our first date twice because we couldn’t wait to see one another, and by rescheduling I mean moving it closer and closer to the day we were on. The date was incredible too - we started out by getting coffee at my favorite coffee shop, then spent the remainder of the date getting lost in downtown Portland, looking at little art shops, getting a drink at a bar, and going to an eclectic restaurant I had always wanted to try. And, even after that, we went back to his apartment where he started a fire in his fireplace that burned as we cuddled on the couch during a movie. He kissed me and I saw fireworks. Additionally, we didn’t sleep together - we didn’t want to ruin the perfect first date.

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How important are the games we play in our adult life? Does “winning” indicate that we are better people or further alienate us from our peers?

Friday night, Ryan invited me over to his house. Ryan used to be an investment banker on Wallstreet, but decided to move to Oregon to live with his sister this last fall and take some time off work after not taking any semblance of a break for nearly two year. He currently makes a living trading stocks, and probably makes more money in one week than I do in a year. He self identifies as pretentious, is an uber intellectual, and there’s something about him that draws me in. We started seeing one another in September, but after a few dates, I made a comment along the lines of, “Well, it’s not like we’re going to get married,” and he interpreted that as me wanting a no-strings-attached relationship. We only saw one another one more time after that revelation.

After my last relationship, we got back in touch and have been hanging out pretty regularly. NSA is perfect for me right now, as I’m trying to heal a broken heart and keep busy. Whenever we meet up to hook up, though, we end up conversing and drinking over some board games (that eventually turn into “strip” games) and then make our way to the bedroom. It’s a great set up we have - enough to maintain distance, but also just enough to keep from feeling dirty and used.

This Friday was no different, except for the fact that I finally got to see the inside of his elusive abode. This was the first time he had ever invited me over and it was both exciting and nerve-wracking. After heading out to pick up some adult beverages, we grabbed his checkers set, two pads of sticky notes, two pens, and headed up to his room. On the sticky notes, we wrote a couple questions and a couple of fun rules to spice up the game that were to be drawn after a player had 4 pieces jumped. Once we ran out of slips of paper, it was time to remove clothing instead.

The game started out light hearted (I actually won the first round). One of the rules I had written was that for every other piece that was jumped, the person who was jumped had to reveal a secret. It was in this moment that we began to open up, while simultaneously, playing to protect our hearts. Is it possible to be that emotionally naked with someone, but retain emotional distance?

After the last two games (both of which I lost), we both stripped down and attempted to do what we’ve always done best - hook up. Unfortunately, something got in the way and we weren’t able to follow through. So, instead, we invited Caleb over to smoke hookah and banter with us.

Somehow, those next few hours flew by, and after a gripping game of Life (where we would yell out, “mazel tov” anytime someone had a baby, got a raise, or lost their job and drink), Caleb headed home and left Ryan and I alone once again. And, once again, we weren’t able to get the magic back, so we fell asleep awkwardly instead.

The next morning, I pulled myself out of my morning after drinking haze and quietly dressed myself. Ryan woke up briefly, smiled at me, and said goodbye before I kissed him on the back of the head and walked to my car. I’m not sure whether it was the hangover or the left over, nameless feelings from the night before, but I found myself in this weird haze for the rest of the day.

Around 3 PM, as I was finally getting ready for the day and listening to Call Me Maybe on Spotify, I received a text message:

Hey, last night was a lot of fun. Hope you had a great day. Talk to you soon. :*

And, although Caleb was certain that Ryan had developed intense feelings for me and, while I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, the haziness of that morning had lifted and left me wondering what might be in store for Ryan and I.

I trade my soul for a wish, pennies and dimes for a kiss. I wasn’t lookin’ for this, but now you’re in my way. Your stare was holding, ripped jeans, skin was showing, hot night wind was blowin - where you think you’re going baby?

The other day, I received a Facebook message from somebody that I used to know.  After turning off my alarm clock after the third snooze cycle, I grabbed my iPhone and saw the message pop up on my home screen. It caused me to fall out of bed and attempt to run into the living room to share with my roommate, Caleb. My voice had somehow disappeared during the previous night and made the unbelievable words that much more difficult to spit out, “Shawn messaged me.”

Caleb advised me to take some time to think about my response before sending it off, but how could I? The last I heard from Shawn had been back in October when he sent me a, “Happy Belated Birthday” message, and before that was last February. Not only did we have a terrible break up, but he also started dating a girl who couldn’t stand me and didn’t like him talking to me.

I’m not sure why I made such a big deal out of the message - it simply asked me how I was doing and let me know that he had been thinking about me. My description of the message was longer than the actual message itself, so, I responded before heading off to work.

(Piece of background information: I currently have two jobs while I’m going to school, one in food service and the other in retail.)

While at work, I felt out of step all day (and apparently, so did all of my co-workers). We all kept running into one another in the kitchen, had a difficult time getting food out to customers (which, in turn, caused our guests to become cranky with us), and everything felt like a complete disaster. My two hour work shift felt as if it lasted nearly six hours, especially when I kept checking my phone for a response.

When I got home after the already strange day, I made myself some dinner, poured myself a glass of wine, then found myself perusing my message inbox on Facebook. I reread old messages from Shawn and came to an absolutely terrifying conclusion: Things change. Two years ago, I would never have pictured myself where I was that night, sitting on my couch, alone, single, and no longer on speaking terms with this one particular human being. Two years ago, he was my everything (and I’m pretty sure I was his everything as well). During the tumultuous break up (and hurtful conversations that proceeded), I somehow lost myself and any chance of a friendship with him.

All of the, “I’ll always love you”s and “I can’t live without you”s made me nauseous to re-read for two big reasons: we are currently living without one another, and, although I’m sure we both will continue to deeply care for one another for the remainder of our adult lives, we are not in love anymore.

I somehow missed the day that everything changed and I feel blindsided by the fact that I feel so differently about this whole situation now, even if it may be for the best - it no longer hurts me. It hurt, and it hurt, and it hurt, until one day, it simply didn’t. In the past, Shawn would never reply to my responses, and he’s yet to still reply. It’s nice to say, with all honesty, that I’m truly okay with this change.

I thought of you, and where you’d gone - and the world spins madly on.

This is the first of many posts to hopefully grace this Tumblog; and what better way to start off than by introducing myself?

Hello. (As silly an formal as that may sound, I have no idea where else to begin.)

As you can see in the description, I am a twenty-something year old American female. Currently, I am in college and trying my damn hardest to graduate as soon as possible. Since around the time puberty hit (and possibly even before that), I found myself connecting to music - more specifically, the lyrics. Just as Apple coined the term, “There’s an App for that,” I have come to realize that for most major (or even minor) life events that I experience, “there’s a song for that.” This blog is a place to collect my thoughts, specifically in reference to the music narrating my life, and share some of my sometimes neurotic thoughts and ideas with whomever cares to read. I’m not entirely sure how far I will take this blog, or if this is just a spur of the moment project I’ve designed in hopes of procrastinating my course work in the first couple weeks of the term. All I know is that I felt the desire to create my own place to write, and so, here I am.

There is a lot to me, and a lot of background that may help these stories to make sense. For one, I tend to be a bit of a serial monogamist. Up until this past year, actually, I had not gone more than a month at a time without being in a serious, committed relationship. (Although, really, how serious can a relationship be if I move on from it within a month?) I have had my fair share of relationships and, more recently, flings. I’m one of those girls who, though I hate to admit it, can’t stand being alone. It’s not that I find anything wrong with being single, I just like myself in a relationship more than I do out of one. Also, I am one of those bizarre creatures that has figured out the art of remaining friends with an ex - in fact, some of my closest friends were guys that I once dated and/or slept with. Eventually, I might go through and detail each relationship, but I’ll probably start with the stories of the present. Finally, I live with my gay best friend from high school named Caleb*, and he is one of the greatest people in my life. (Yes, that asterisk means that I won’t be using real names - it just keeps things easier.)

Anyway, that’s all I have for now. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Well, here goes nothing… Enjoy!