So perhaps I oversold the ease with which I can transition from the warm and fuzzies to ‘Hey buddy!’ I think my last post put more of an, ‘I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine,’ spin on things than I’m feeling today. When something comes to an end, it still sucks. Full stop. Even if you still want that person in your life. Maybe more so. Being friends doesn’t mean everything stays the same except the feelings, because (for me, at least) they don’t just disappear like a bottle of wine from my fridge. How you relate needs to be renegotiated, residual feelings have to be dealt with, and perhaps more than anything, thoughts of what could have been need to be left to the side.
I was reading the past couple of Savage Love articles earlier today, which is odd for me since I’m normally all over those as soon as they come out. Dan told a reader ‘closure isn’t something you find. It’s something you do.’ First of all, perfect timing, weeks-old advice I’m just seeing now. Seriously, that is some fairy godmother shit right there. Normally closure happens with time, or through learning something that changes the way you see the situation (or yourself), or the combination of expensive therapy
and lots of crying and screaming Adele lyrics at your cats. I mean that never happened, what are you talking about? And don’t forget lots of emotionally irresponsible behaviour, booze, and tubs of ice cream. Basically Bridget Jones, IRL.
But I’m trying to learn things from all these interactions, and do a little bit better each time. I just so happened to already be taking a break from drinking when we had the talk. Sidenote: Nothing good has ever come after the words, ‘I have to talk to you about something.’ It’s not like the following sentence is going to be, ‘I fucking love unicorns, and I just wanted you to know that.’ A very dear friend had joked that she would be more impressed if I chose a week when there would be more temptation to drink. Be careful what you wish for, friend. Thanks a lot, now I’m dealing with all the feels sober. In all honesty, I know it’s for the best. A bottle (or three) of wine sounds great, until I’m a blubbery, drunk mess with an inevitable hangover.
I’m also not burying these feels in food, despite how familiar that territory may be — and how delicious said feelings are. I’ve actually found some calm in cooking healthy meals, in packing my little (adorable) lunch every day, in just knowing I’m doing this one thing to take care of me. A cupcake would make me feel better for a minute. This lasts much longer.
The hardest habit to give up was just talking to JB. I didn’t think I’d need to and I didn’t want to. It’s astounding how quickly someone can become a part of your life, and just the thought of not talking to him turned my stomach in knots. Those knots also made my decision to ask for the space I need to create that closure all the more necessary (if not exactly easy). A hundred times today, I reached for my phone to say/share/send something. But I didn’t. Just like the wine or the pint of ice cream, it would feel good in the moment and do nothing but make things harder in the long run. So I’ve traded in tea for booze, replaced cupcakes with some horseshit ‘brownies’ made purely of compacted banana, and I’m keeping a list of the things I really want to share for when I’m able to really be friends with JB. There isn’t going to be any shortage of wine anytime soon, I have a whole lifetime to indulge in the occasional non-emotional cupcake, and most importantly, I know there’s a strong friendship waiting for me when I’m ready. I just have some work to do first.