Happy 2nd Anniversary, MealPlan!!

Affected

There are several websites I visit on a daily basis; the blogs listed to the right, Facebook, Twitter, and The Frisky.

Since discovering The Frisky more that 2 years ago, I have followed the lives of the women who write for the site, their trials and tribulations, from financial issues, dating dramas, marriage woes, getting in shape, among many other life journeys. When I started reading, Editor in Chief Amelia had just gone through a similar broken engagement situation that I had just experienced a few months earlier. I read her writings and felt a kin to her, as I had just experienced those same emotions too.

Another writer, Jessica, wrote frequently about her 2 year relationship. One that was "practically perfect in every way". She wrote about how they talked about an upcoming engagement, even bought a dress for the eventual engagement party. I have felt like I know these women, I follow in their triumphs and their failures, like finding best friends in the pages of a book.

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On Saturday evening, Craig and I had ventured out to Ikea in Red Hook, Brooklyn to search for some additional storage pieces for my apartment. We took the ferry in the snow to Brooklyn, found the perfect piece, and ventured back home to put it all together. Craig got to work building the shelf while I ran to the store and came back to make dinner. While waiting for some mushrooms and onions to caramelize, I checked out my Twitter feed from my phone. I was surprised to find Ameila tweeting about un-following a friend/co-worker's ex boyfriend and taking sides "20th Century style".

I quickly dove in to find out who it was. Who had broken up with their boyfriend? Who had even been dating someone? It didn't take long for me to find it: Jessica's boyfriend dumped her.

In the following days, she has written lengthy articles about their relationship, how surprised she was about the sudden turn of events, and today, how she has been able to fall out of love.

This week, I have literally been in a tug-of-war over my emotions and it hit me today that Jessica's failed relationship has struck a chord with me. It has shaken something deep within me. So much so, that I have subconsciously questioned everything about myself.

In Jessica's case, she was in a relationship she thought was on-track to marriage and was completely struck with the reality that it was not as it seemed. The man she loved was not as he seemed and she is left reveling in what she should have done, could have done, and what she will do now.

Why does this affect me? I'm not exactly sure. Maybe it's because I know what she's feeling. I know the shock, the hurt, the disbelief, and the embarrassment that comes from a breakup like that. I know what it is like to finally uncover and understand that the person you thought you were with was not that person at all. And ultimately, I guess it makes me wonder if it will happen to me again.

Of course, I know that she and I are not the same person. Where something that happens to her will not automatically happen to me. Please know that I am aware of this. I know that I should never compare my relationship and my life to one of another and that each individual has experiences that are unique to them. But, I have to admit it has affected me.

"Why do you doubt me?" Craig has said to me this week. And in reality, I don't doubt him. When I think about him I see him as an individual, one that has no ties or connections to anything in my past. If anything, I see him as my shining light at the end of the tunnel. He fills my heart with joy and happiness each and every day and I hope that he feels the same way about me.

When I think about the situation at hand, I think that he is exactly the person he seems to be. No smoke and mirrors, no lies, nothing concealed from me. He is honest and kind, loving and affectionate, and takes care of me. More importantly, I feel that he wants to do these things, to be that person, not because he feels like he has to.

So why does one article written by someone I have never met affect me so? Why does reading about someone else's shock and betrayal make me think that it will eventually happen to me? Is it because it has happened to me? Are we all destined to have one huge heartbreak in our lives and once we get past it we're good to only have happiness? And if not, how do you know? How do you protect yourself?

In trying to answer my own question, I know that no one can predict the future and you can never be prepared for the rug to be pulled out from under your feet. You can only love with your entirety, for that is the only way to love. That is the only way I love. And in moving forward and pressing on, I will try to remember to push away the demons of the past and love wholly and completely, with everything I have.

“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love
again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you
aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can
make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making
mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking
about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she
knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t
analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy,
let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.”

-Bob Marley

He certainly knew a little bit about living in the moment. Live for today, for now. This minute, this second, this moment. Nothing else matters.

Damages

It was 2:12pm. My phone sat next to me, the messages I had sent sat unread. A mountain of paperwork sat to my left, the completed (much smaller pile) set of papers to my right. My mouse blinked on the screen. I sent another message. “Are you busy?” No reply.

Then, I couldn’t breathe. My throat shut completely. My heart pounded in my chest, my palms got sweaty, my head swirled with a carousel of images, people and objects in my life spinning round and round, each not tangible. “I’m having a panic attack,” I realized.

It’s no secret that I carry a significant amount of damage from my previous relationship, but it is unusual for the affects to show themselves, like was the case today. Normal me would have seen Craig’s lack of response as a busily working employee, trying to complete everything before leaving for the weekend. But today, that silent phone sent me into a spiral of self loathing and doubt. I am afraid of losing him.

It’s strange, because even in the midst of these attacks our outbursts, I do have the mental ability to understand that I’m being ridiculous, allowing my stupid brain to make up fictitious scenarios and attempt to persuade normal me into accepting that as a reality. Even still, it doesn’t seem to be able to calm my shaking hands and clenched teeth, thinking that my world is going to be turned upside down at any second.

It’s not fair to Craig, really, to have me question his fidelity or desire to be with me when he has given me no reason to. But, the outcome of my relationship with Cole taught me to question everything, to think that nothing is certain, and to always be on edge, preparing for the blast.

Most of the time, I can keep it under wraps, calming myself down to prevent an onslaught of questions spewing out of my mouth, questioning his every intent. “What did you REALLY mean when you said that?” “Where were you REALLY when you told me that you were somewhere else?” “Do you REALLY mean that, or were you just telling me what I want to hear?”

He is an amazing person for constantly reminding me that he wants to be with me, but I can’t help but wonder why he would want to be with someone as damaged as I am. Do I deserve to be with someone so wonderful? And, if I do, do I do enough for him to warrant his love?

With every relationship, I’m sure there is the possibility of it failing. People are people and sometimes we change our minds, but I am firm in the belief that some things do last forever. I hope and pray that this is one of them.

While I continue work out my own issues, I strive to be the kind of person that he deserves. Someone who is not emotionally stunted and who gives him all the love he is deserving of. Let’s just say that I have work to do…

Goin' to Carolina

I took a boy home.

There have been many many thoughts and dreams (some nightmares) about eventually bringing someone new back home with me to meet the family. And, I did it. Originally, my plan was to infiltrate slowly. Have the boy meet the family in small groups, slowly, as to not overwhelm him. If you know my family, you know that while they're incredibly warm and welcoming, they can also be very intimidating.

When I went home for Easter, I hated being away from Craig. I know it sounds stupid and silly, but I got comfortable being with him, talking to him all the time, and having that security of him being there. In fact, before then, I saw him at least once a day and usually wouldn't go more than an hour or two without talking to him. I was experiencing some major withdrawal.

I couldn't stop talking about him. Before, I was keeping information about him pretty quiet, because I didn't want to go on and on about something that wasn't going to last, but I couldn't keep it in any longer. I'm sure my family must have gotten tired of hearing about him so much, but it seemed that there was nothing else I could talk about.

Family, to me, has always been a vital part of my life and it was always very important to me that my significant other understand and embrace that as well. So, when Craig told me that he was interested in meeting my family, I was ecstatic. I certainly wouldn't go to that level until we were both ready, but when we realized that we were ready to share our relationship with our families, it all just seemed so natural.

We booked the tickets and planned a long weekend in Carolina for Memorial Day.

When we booked the tickets, I was nervous. Really nervous. Would they like him? Would they approve? And, more importantly, would he like them? What if was too much for him, what if the family was too much to handle? The weekend had the ability to turn out amazing, or devastating.

Not to mention that my mother was planning the party of the decade, inviting both sides of the families. This was not going to be the slow "meet my family" process I had envisioned. This wasn't even going off the deep-end. This was the ocean.

Though, as the weeks went on, I moved from nervous to excited. I couldn't wait to go back home and show off my new addition. I knew they'd like him, but I still wasn't sure how they would be received by him.

We're different, he and I. While we grew up with very similar family values and ideals and we share a lot of the same goals, our lives as children were very different. Financially, we were on opposite ends of the spectrum. He, just minutes from one of the largest cities in the world, and I, a good 30 minute drive to the nearest mall (not even a good one either!) I have cows just over the fence from my backyard that we use often for bonfire parties and he has shapely manicured lawns with fenced-in pools. I was nervous about showing him where I came from. Sure, I have a little "small town" in me, and he can certainly see that. But, my lifestyle certainly has changed now that I'm living in New York. What would he think of the girl that used to go have a Mountain Dew slushie from Sheetz on Friday nights instead of going to bars and clubs? Would he like the food? Would he understand how I could miss that tiny little town?

More importantly, would he feel differently about me when he realizes I grew up with hand-me-down clothes and sharing a bedroom with my sister? Would he think my “roots” were too Southern? Would he find my family dynamics to be less than desirable? I worried, panicked even, for days. I tried to describe to him how I was feeling, explaining my worries, but he assured me that nothing could change the way he feels about me. Still, my mind wouldn’t quiet.

He was a nervous wreck. I can’t blame him, however, because I was unnaturally nervous when I met his mother and father, sister and brother. Even more so when he added in a few cousins, aunts, uncles, and a grandmother! Fortunately for me, it was a slower process. I can’t imagine what he was feeling sitting on a plane knowing that he’d be meeting 40+ of my family members in 2 days.

The flight in was fine, a bit delayed by about 10-15 minutes, but nothing major. My mom and sister were at the airport in NORMAL clothes (I was seriously thinking they would dress up like hillbillies) and no big flashing signs. Such a relief!

While my impression of the weekend as a whole is one of “it was great!”, I’m still not completely sure what he feels about the whole thing. I assured him that my family is much easier to navigate when they’re in smaller groups (meaning, mom side/dad side) and I’ve assured myself that my family knowing him the way I do will take some time.

Since we don’t live near them, this process will be slow-going and in short, quick segments. I only hope that my family could see how amazing he really is.

So my first time bringing a boy home was not as terrifying as my mind made it out to be. After all, my family only wants to see me happy, and once they see that he is the one that is making it happen, they’ll love him as much as I do.

It is my hope that we can go back again soon, this time: no worries.

Dating Virginia: Game Over

Dating is a game. From the beginning of courtship, it’s a game. Arranged relationships were essentially a game of “Risk” where unions were made to further a family’s financial security, families joined to create more power – throughout, there was always strategy and planning. It is a game.

Like a game of chess, it’s as if each piece is a representative of us. You’ve got your feelings, your emotions, your mind, your body, and like the key piece in the game, the Queen, your heart. As we date and get to know different people, you enter into a game; moving your pieces around, capturing pieces of the other and allowing them to capture yours. A lot of times, the pieces captured are not in order and the game is lost by both people, but we keep playing. We fight, we battle, we cry, we laugh, we make peace, and sometimes, call a truce.

I’ve done a lot of playing “games” since waging my last war. I was wounded, retreated, and left to mend before picking up and playing again. But, again I did play, in search of that perfect partner who could play the game and take my heart.

Like one of my favorite artists, Ingrid Michaelson, sang, “The battle with the heart isn’t easily won. But it can be won.”

It happened. I moved my pieces, and finally opened up my Queen to be captured, and it was. Someone has my heart. And I his. The battle has been won.

I realize some of my readers might be confused at this point, because I’ve been really tight-lipped about this relationship. Essentially, it started as something slow and unknown, and even a little shaky. It wasn’t until I saw our relationship reach a point of stability (and stay there for a while) that I felt comfortable enough to write about it.

So here it is, officially: Meal Plan and I are in it together. We’re in it for the long run. We’re in it for good.

The last time I wrote about Meal Plan, I announced (much to my dismay) that we were just friends. And, we, in fact, were just friends. We were dating other people, but remaining in close contact with each other all of the time. To make a long story short, it took a lot of game playing and finally a surrender for us to finally realize what we both wanted; a lasting, exclusive, committed relationship.

So here we are – he makes me feel like I’m floating. We’ve taken this relationship in baby steps, carefully making sure that we’re doing it right while nurturing each other in a way that makes us grow together, at the same pace. I, of course, needed (and still need sometimes) a lot of care and patience to open up enough to let him in completely. But, I have and he has shown me that I can feel like this – I didn’t think this feeling existed outside of novels and silly RomComs.

Every time we are together, time slows down, as if it’s helping take special care in making memories. The universe is telling me, “Look, Virginia! Remember all of these things – they are amazing.”

Like the night he first told me that he loved me. We were lying in bed, watching TV after spending the day with my mother in the city. We were casually talking and when we both fell comfortably silent, wrapped in each other’s arms, he whispered, “I love you so much.” I can’t even describe what I felt in that exact moment. It was like my chest swelled, a lump rose in my throat, and a light shone through my eyes. As soon as I heard it, I knew I felt it too. “I love you too.”

Since then, I haven’t stopped smiling. Someone loves me! He loves me! Before, “I love you” was something that you said, just because you didn’t really have anything else to say. But now, I know that those words can truly mean something, and you say them because the feelings you’re feeling just can’t be contained anymore – never have I heard words more sincere than those he said that night.

I apologize for the onslaught of ferris wheels, butterflies, heart-shaped confetti, and sprinkles lovey-stuff. Yet, I can’t imagine what I could write about him that wouldn’t include those feelings. Sure, we have leapt off of the ledge away from the safety of stable ground into the scary unknown future, but we leapt together, and good or bad, we’re falling. And no matter what happens, we have love.

So friends, I can officially (yes, meaning I got permission) to introduce MealPlan to you. Readers, meet Craig:

Lunch in Central Park, Thursday, April 8th, 2010

Get to know him, friends. He's sticking around ;)

In this life...

I know I barely updated in August - I apologize for that. But once things start spinning out of control, it's hard enough for me to grasp what is going on in my own life. Having to organize my thoughts into a succinct blog post was near impossible. But, I'm trying now.

I am home. I came into NC for the Labor Day weekend. Though I might have come in to town anyway (because of the extended weekend), I had special reason to be here. Yesterday, my grandfather celebrated his 80th birthday. When I booked my flight in July, the mood for the weekend was of a celebratory nature. A monumental party was being planned and everyone was to attend. However, this weekend has ended up being an overwhelming mix of emotions; happiness, sadness, heart-wrenching longing, empathy, sympathy, and so much more.

My grandfather is dying.

Though I really feel that I would rather him pass on than to suffer, I am selfish. I do not want to lose him. I do not want live in a world where he does not exist. I guess for some it's better to know it is coming instead of being shocked and bewildered by a sudden death, but to know it is inevitable is just as hard as I imagine losing him will be.

Does knowing something is coming make it any easier to handle?

I've spent a lot of time in the hospital this holiday weekend. My father was diagnosed with MRSA and had to be quarantined in the infectious disease unit. Essentially, his body has no ability to fight any sort of infection because of the Leukemia. So, visiting my father in isolation, and seeing my grandfather (lucky they were just down the hall from each other, right?) has essentially been my weekend.

I feel that I am a relatively strong person (most of the time) but I am having a very difficult time dealing with this upcoming loss. Though there is obviously a grandfather/granddaughter relationship there, I also consider him to be one of my closest friends. When he goes, a piece of myself will be gone forever.

As I have looked upon my grandfather with teary eyes, I have noticed that the interactions with my grandparents (when they think no one is looking) is both heart-warming and heart-wrenching at the same time. Throughout 58 years of marriage, they are still very much in love. And even though my grandfather has hardly any fight left in him, my grandmother is fighting every step of the way. She is his caretaker, the meal-giver, the one who talks to the nurses, the one who ensures that he is feeling okay. There was a moment, right as she finished feeding him his lunch, where she took the napkin, wiped his mouth, and held his face in her hand. They looked at each other as if they were 25 years old again. No one else existed but the two of them.

It has certainly made me think - does love like that even exist anymore? And will I ever find someone to love long enough and cling to the final stages of life with? I mean, isn't that the point of all this? To find an other half - one that will be there until the very end, holding your face and gazing into your eyes; one who has a heart breaking in two but still lets you know that it's okay to let go, to stop suffering.

Though I may be a little cynical and skeptical about love and what it has in store for me. I know, in utter certainty, that I have witnessed love this weekend. And I have learned.. love is about loving someone not for who they ought to be, or could be, but as they are, until the very end.

So, though this weekend has been extremely difficult emotionally, it has also been very beneficial to my overall emotional health. I think I have been harboring all of this emotion in solitude in NYC, and I have been able to talk, cry, hug my family members, and really experience this time with them - instead of alone.

After all, alone is the last place I wanted to be.

The Un-iversary

It has been said that everyone ages a considerable amount in their first year out of college. I wholeheartedly believe that is true. I mentioned a few posts ago about a networking event for Elon students that will soon be joining the workforce. Upon returning to my apartment and discussing the event with my roommate, I remember telling her, "They were all so little! They looked like babies!" Thinking about it, they were only 1-3 years younger than I. But, they had a certain youthfulness about them. And those of us that have moved forward into the black hole of "real life" appeared older (not necessarily more mature, but definitely older.) Maybe it's the naivety that is gone from behind our eyes.

As the title of this post states, I have reached my universary. The one-year point of my un-marriage. There were many times throughout the year where I thought that this day (which was actually yesterday) would be my hardest day. I was plesantly suprised to find that not the case. It was almost like any other day, really. Yes, there were some reminders througout the weekend of the wedding that "wasn't to be" and the relationship that "crashed and burned" but, my mind and heart were at peace. It was almost like those things were never there - like they never existed in the first place. Am I completely whole again? Probably not. In fact, I probably will never be completely "healed". In a way, I will always have a twinge of pain - like a faint scar - that will remind me of how badly an individual can hurt another without doing any physical harm.

I spent the weekend in North Carolina with my family and friends. My grandparents were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary (I would have shared a wedding day with them had I gotten married) - - there was a grand party planned with all of thier family and friends in attendance. Irony definitely played a role in the 50th anniversary party -- the decor featured decorations and details that were carefully picked out for my own celebration. I thought it would be painful, seeing all of my "ideas" used for something else.. but it was heartwarming, really. Knowing that those things were being used for a celebration of love (real love) was the best thing I could have hoped to see. Seeing my grandparents dance together, loving each other for 50 years - has made me believe that it is possible to find love - even after a considerable amount of heartache.

It was wonderful to talk with some extended family members - those that I (sadly) don't get to see very often (Shout-out to Katy and Dave! hollaaa!) and to really spend some time with those I see more often, but I have missed so much since moving to NYC. I am so very blessed to have such wonderful people in my life.

So, I made it. I made it to the year after. And I'm surprisingly doing very well. But, like those from the networking event, I've lost some of the naivety that laid behind my eyes last year. I had to grow up.


Yes, those are some of the photos from my wedding portraits. For a long time, I felt the need to keep these hidden, but I figured it would be okay to post them because that girl in the photo does not exist anymore. Looking at them, it's like someone playing dress-up, pretending to be something, to feel something that is not there anymore. That girl is tucked away just like the dress and veil.

I am a new person - someone who is ready and excited to experience a life that is full of family, friends, and laughter - and someone who will always believe in love.