maybe it's just me, but running into one's ex is traumatic.
i spent four years with the man. i spent four years sharing a coffee pot. four years eating off of someone else's place. mixing my laundry. these are the things that get me. it's the little things; the realizing that you don't need to fill the coffee maker up so much in the morning. if i had a coffee maker. i don't. he kept it. which is FINE, the coffee maker is obviously not the point. i've lived without the coffee maker for seven months, it's fine. i'm re-learning this whole thing.
so i went home for a long weekend for some decompression, some home cooking [nobody makes burgers on the grill like my dad. nobody.] and liz's bridal shower. so i'm back in the city, a little shell-shocked that i have to go back to that soul-sucking cubicle that we all work in, that i do have to battle the morning subway commute [amazing how easily we get used to not being in the city, right?] and i walk out of the coffee shop with my morning coffee, thinking 'this sunburn's not THAT bad' [it is] and i hear the voice. that's what got me four years ago and lord have mercy it apparently gets me now.
honestly? i felt like i was going to throw up. i'm 31 years old. i've broken up with people before. i've seen them afterwards. i've not thrown up. i shudder to think that i'll spend my entire life fearing hearing his voice because it makes my stomach do triple gainers.
so, because i'm super suave, i started routing around in my bag for my cell phone. which wasn't ringing. but i thought that maybe it'd look like someone incredibly important was calling me. and i was necessary on this planet. my self worth is definately not tied up in the disintegration of this relationship, no sir. so while i'm balancing my very hot coffee, squinting through my sunglasses which were all cockeyed on my head, and fruitlessly digging through my vortex of a bag, i walked right into a ups guy. my coffee got on him. and on my feet. which are a bit sunburned because i'm no longer used to that florida sun. i don't know if my ex saw any of this. i'm pretending he didn't even notice me in the first place because i like to pretend that i blend into brick really really well.
the ups guy noticed me. good for him his uniform's brown, right? because everyone shouldn't necessarily get used to their clothes having brown splotches all over them due to intense clutziness, like i have.
so i staggered to the train. tried to drink what was left of my coffee. spent most of the day at work writing out to do lists for liz's wedding [ah, the life of a maid of honor] and wishing i was outside reading a book.
i'm ok with making my coffee one cup at a time. i just really wish the coffee maker didn't still seem so great.
i spent four years with the man. i spent four years sharing a coffee pot. four years eating off of someone else's place. mixing my laundry. these are the things that get me. it's the little things; the realizing that you don't need to fill the coffee maker up so much in the morning. if i had a coffee maker. i don't. he kept it. which is FINE, the coffee maker is obviously not the point. i've lived without the coffee maker for seven months, it's fine. i'm re-learning this whole thing.
so i went home for a long weekend for some decompression, some home cooking [nobody makes burgers on the grill like my dad. nobody.] and liz's bridal shower. so i'm back in the city, a little shell-shocked that i have to go back to that soul-sucking cubicle that we all work in, that i do have to battle the morning subway commute [amazing how easily we get used to not being in the city, right?] and i walk out of the coffee shop with my morning coffee, thinking 'this sunburn's not THAT bad' [it is] and i hear the voice. that's what got me four years ago and lord have mercy it apparently gets me now.
honestly? i felt like i was going to throw up. i'm 31 years old. i've broken up with people before. i've seen them afterwards. i've not thrown up. i shudder to think that i'll spend my entire life fearing hearing his voice because it makes my stomach do triple gainers.
so, because i'm super suave, i started routing around in my bag for my cell phone. which wasn't ringing. but i thought that maybe it'd look like someone incredibly important was calling me. and i was necessary on this planet. my self worth is definately not tied up in the disintegration of this relationship, no sir. so while i'm balancing my very hot coffee, squinting through my sunglasses which were all cockeyed on my head, and fruitlessly digging through my vortex of a bag, i walked right into a ups guy. my coffee got on him. and on my feet. which are a bit sunburned because i'm no longer used to that florida sun. i don't know if my ex saw any of this. i'm pretending he didn't even notice me in the first place because i like to pretend that i blend into brick really really well.
the ups guy noticed me. good for him his uniform's brown, right? because everyone shouldn't necessarily get used to their clothes having brown splotches all over them due to intense clutziness, like i have.
so i staggered to the train. tried to drink what was left of my coffee. spent most of the day at work writing out to do lists for liz's wedding [ah, the life of a maid of honor] and wishing i was outside reading a book.
i'm ok with making my coffee one cup at a time. i just really wish the coffee maker didn't still seem so great.
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