Monday, November 17, 2008

67 plus 1

As of yesterday, it has been 67 days, the number I thought would be magic (okay, not really. I did recognize that basing my hopes for survival and healing on an episode of “How I Met Your Mother” was not really practical.). And here I am, with freshly dyed and awesome hair, and I’m still sad. I still miss him. And I’m still angry. I’m tired of being angry, although I do think back fondly on the myself of two months ago who was afraid I wouldn’t get angry (the book I bought says you need to work through your anger in order to feel passion again). Both tend to hit me in strong waves, and I just want to forgive, forget and move on. Even more than feeling angry or sad or whatever, I’m tired of thinking of him. Wondering if he’s thinking of me, if he regrets anything. Wondering how long it’ll take the full regret to hit him, if he’ll ever contact me or if the night he broke up with me was the last time I’ll see him. I’m hoping this last wave, which has been stronger than those in the past, is the last one, the last “I’m ridding myself of him and therefore must mourn and process things once more” thing, rather than a “I’m stressed and sick and tired and worn out and thinking of all the things that I’ve got to do, therefore I miss my previous support system” thing.

I have decided that I’m probably not going to meet people in bars, and therefore need to rethink that aspect of going out. Saturday night was one of my friends’ birthdays (or at least her party), and one of her friends and I wandered around a bar, looking for someone I might be interested in (btw, her friends are AWESOME). And I found no one. Which in large part could be because the guys you meet in bars, especially bars in Adams Morgan, are not the kinds of guys I’m going to be attracted to. I do think another part of it, though, is that I’ve realized that I’m terrified of getting hurt. I know, I was all, “I’m ready to date again…” which isn’t entirely not true. I mean, how do you get over your fears except by facing them? But the thought of going through all of this again? Nearly gives me a panic attack.