A month ago, my life changed dramatically. After over four years, and a lot of bumps in the road in between, my long-term relationship came to an end. Unlike some rom-com, my life did not crash around me. Point blank, I fell out of love with my best friend. It was an end to some means that grew and seethed for longer than I want to share. To say, "I'm over it" is insulting of a close friendship but I can confidently say that life is moving and moving well. I mean sure, I listened to a ton of Adele that first week but I'm smiling and laughing and surrounded by people whom I love and I think they like me back. I did not eat chocolate and ice cream; I ran and did yoga sculpt. (Nobody wants to date a newly single, depressed fat chick.) I did not sit at home and cry in a dark bedroom; I invited my girlfriends to Chicago and ended up with 2 a.m. bottle service at a swanky club. I enjoyed the last day of summer on a boat in Lake Michigan with new friends; I shopped at Victoria's Secret and drank martinis with my mom; I went on a date to a romantic fondue restaurant in Chicago with my #1 guy (dad); I attended a wedding with one of my married, female best friends as my date. I DYED MY FREAKIN' HAIR RED. Seriously, I really feel sorry for those girls in the rom-coms; they're so sad.
There have been a couple of exchanges here and there between myself and recent ex, which are all friendly in nature (except for the 12:30 a.m. drunk call about "The Muppet Babies.") Below is one worth sharing, as it's an accurate depiction of how I feel. To caveat, this is part of a larger piece of work and the beginning should not be taken as some piggish guy behavior.
I think it's funny what you made some choice purchases at CVS. You are a single dude, I'm not shocked. But that is the exact opposite of what I did. Everyone was like, "you're single, you're hot, you're killing it in this city. Do a hot, rich dude. BLA BLA BLA." No, that's not what I want to do. I'm a catch and I know this. After 25 years, I can honestly say that I am extremely comfortable in my own skin. I love who I am and whomever wants to hang out with me should too. I don't need to go around banging every dude that lives in a high rise to justify how I feel about myself. They are all over Chicago and some are genuinely nice, fun guys but until I really get to know them I probably won't get too excited. A man shouldn't be a novelty item. That's not what I need to be happy. We both have respect for ourselves and others, that's an incredibly admirable quality. So maybe I'll find that guy with the head of hair and the 9-5 job and cooks (that would be money!) but really I just want someone who complements me. That I can be a couple AND a teammate with, that's what will justify my self worth.
You deserve the same thing. Don't screw up.
So sometimes life doesn't work out as planned. There's no need to dwell on it because, at the end of the day, you are left with a wealth of memories and the excitement of an unplanned future. This blog tone will likely change but I'm the anti-Carrie Bradshaw. No need to hear about every man/men I date/make out with in a bar/develop a 20 second crush. That's for me to know, experience, and ultimately end up exactly where I'm supposed to be.
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