That was then, this is now

Being at home (and unemployed) has left me with copious amounts of time to think. This is dangerous. It's a good thing I start work in June or else I'd probably be institutionalized come August.
So, during all this thinking, I started to reflect upon how I've changed over the past year. The old me was less neurotic, less jealous and paranoid, more focused and self-assured. The old me most certainly would not have Facebook-stalked my way through an entire relationship of wall posts. I am pathetic.
I don't know why I did it, the Facebook-stalking, I mean. I knew it would make me unhappy. Unhappy to see that they were happy. How utterly terrible is that?

I feel as if I was robbed of the happy part. The BND and I went straight from friends to the awkward "i like you" stage to bickering break-up without any of the good stuff in between. I want the "I-can't-wait-to-see-you-hey-I-miss-you-call-me-later" stage. I want the part where I wake up with a smile on my face. I want to know that someone is as happy to be with me as I am with them.

And all this, I think, has been the hardest part. Her lingering traces and evidence of his past affection serve to twist the knife. My inadequacies taunt me from the corners. Why isn't everything that I see enough? Have I imagined the emotional and intellectual connection that I thought I felt? The ties that bound us together turned out to be made of gossamer thread: hard to see and even harder to hold onto.

He told me once that with me he felt a new hesitation, one he didn't feel before he dated either of his exes. I should have known then that it wasn't going to happen.

I wish I hadn't stuck around to become the one who didn't measure up.

And that's the thing. The old me would not have cared about that. The old me would've said fuck that. I don't care how I measure... up or otherwise.

New me needs a life beyond the hypothetical and the wishes and the could have beens. I'll put that on the list of things I'm not going to accomplish this summer.


(P to the S, resolution: no more complaining about the same old stupid boy things. I will find new subjects to write about. Well, we'll see how long this lasts...)