A (Sort Of) Triumphant Return(ish)

Well, long time no see Life and Times of Ica.

I remember when I was first blogging, I'd find other blogs that hadn't been updated in years, and the last entry would be just a normal one, and I'd wonder what happened that made the writer just stop.  And now . . . here I am 2+ years since I posted and the answer is that LIFE happens.  Honestly, it hasn't been anything crazy exciting, just life.  Some bad, some good, some amazing, some awful.  Way way way too much to put into just one blog post.  Probably way way way too much to blog about, period, but I think I'm going to try.  I actually do miss this little space, and I started it back when what I was documenting was 90% misery.  There are definitely some good times on here too, but I think there should be more of them now that I'm, y'know, happy. 

So briefly . . .

The good/amazing:
--we are still in WA and we still love it
--I'm still working for MHC and loving working from home; Jerbs works in medical billing too now and she loves her job
--we still have Max and Hollie and Irene and Ilya, and they're all healthy and happy
--we have a new cat named Nikolai, and 2 rats named Juniper and Delilah
--I joined a gym that I really really love
--I'm subbing in multiple handbell choirs
--I actually have a love life!  (or . . . really a sex life, I guess, and I love it)
--I think I've finally gotten to the very root of my mental health issues and I'm finally on a med regimen that is WORKING
--over the past couple of years Jerbs and I have seen Game Grumps Live, NSP live, the Mountain Goats, Alton Brown, Neil Gaiman, TSO, Maroon 5 . . . and we're seeing the Mountain Goats and Morrissey in September
--the Goldwomen bought a HOUSE  earlier this year! (I have yet to visit them and see it, but I'm going to someday!)
--the Flicks had another baby and she's AMAZING, and their first baby is now a toddler who is also AMAZING . . . I legit love those kids and their parents; they also bought a new house since I last blogged and it's super cute
--Jerbs' cousin had a baby and he's 2 now, and he's adorable, and hilariously fearless
--Austy is TEN and started 5th grade the other day, and I'm blown away both by the little person he's become and by how it seems like just yesterday that he was a tiny baby; he's smart and funny and an amazing baseball player and I just love him
-Austy is also a BIG BROTHER now!  my sister had a baby girl in January, her name is Logan, her birthday is close to mine and Jillian's, and she's literally the cutest baby I've ever seen
--related--my sister is married!  she met this awesome guy in 2017, they fell in love, got engaged at a Dbacks game, had a baby, and had a mini wedding in April . . . their real big wedding is next April (on their 1st anniversary) and I'm so excited!  I'm so genuinely, over the moon happy for my sister
--my new brother in law has 5 kids from a previous marriage, so I have 4 step nephews and a step niece . . . I've mt two of the nephews and they're awesome, and my step niece is just adorable and I love her

The bad/awful:
--I went through a pretty awful bout mental health wise for awhile
--Jerbs' mom passed away last year
--around the same time, a friend/sorority sister from college passed away while giving childbirth
--literally everything about the Trump administration . . . thank God next year is an election year, hopefully it'll be the end of this utter bullshit nightmare

I think that's about it.  Life is pretty good at the moment, minus constantly missing Jane.  Hopefully sometime soon I can write more in detail.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with this lovely picture of our neck of the woods--Capitol Lake and the capitol building in Oly.

Three Years

Yesterday was the third anniversary of the break up.  I know we're kind of at a point where it's weird that I remember it but: A) it was kind of a major event so of course it sticks in my head, and B) I have a tendency to remember dates anyway, and this is definitely not the weirdest one I remember.  Plus the day of the break up was also Ex-Fiance's last day of school, so we were actually counting down to it anyway back then.

Anyway, it makes me feel reflective to think that three years have passed between then--which was absolutely one of the lowest and most awful points of my life--and now, when I'm probably the best I've ever been.  The change never ceases to amaze me.  I remember telling myself that night, "Give it 6 months.  Survive the next 6 months and go from there."  (Six months because at the time, it was both the longest amount of time I could fathom thinking about and the amount of time I thought it would take for us to get back together).  Back then six months seemed like this crazy, daunting amount of time--and now I've survived 3 years, which is 6 times that original goal.  It makes me so fucking proud I can't even tell you.  There really are no words.

The past three years have probably been the most transformative of my adult life.  I've changed more than I ever thought possible.  I think when you suffer from a mental illness for as long as I did, you kind of become convinced that it's the only way you'll ever be able to function, that you're just going to stay sick until it finally kills you.  I thought that whatever level of mental health I reached, it would be perfunctory.  I thought I'd make it to a point where I could function.  To where I could hold down a job and exert a little control over my thoughts and not spend all day every day feeling like I wanted to rip my skin off of my body (legit something I used to feel, btw).  I never expected to thrive.

But I am thriving.  I'm not just holding down a job, I've got a job I truly enjoy at a company whose work I really believe in.  I'm pursuing a career in an area that interests me.  And I've got a whole other job on top of that one!  I'm financially stable and independent.  I'm genuinely happy to be alive and and looking forward to whatever comes next.  I'm not anxious about time passing or what my future's going to be.  (OK, that's not 100% true, because my 30th birthday caused a bit of a quarter life crisis, but now is not the time to talk about it).

I'm not perfect.  There are still things I'm working on and still things I struggle with.  I need to lose weight and I need to manage my money better, but I'm still ahead of where I was in both those areas.  And I definitely, definitely need to find more time to devote to writing and creative pursuits.  Sometimes I get lonely, not necessarily for a significant other, but just for friends.  It sucks to have all my closest friends in other cities or states.  And yes, I know the obvious solution is to make more friends here in Flagstaff, but I have no idea how to make friends as an adult.  Through work is the big one, I'm sure, but my co-workers are all either married moms or hard partying 20-somethings, and I don't fit into either of those groups.  (Seriously, I never would have thought that 30 would have been more awkward than junior high as far as fitting in).

One really weird thing about being three years out from the break up is that I tend to not realize how much stuff I've done since it happened.  A lot of it is small things.  Like sometimes, I'll be re-watching something on Netflix (because let's be real, I pretty much watch the same 5 or 6 shows over and over), and I'll randomly catch myself trying to remember what my ex thought of it, and then I'll remember that I didn't start watching it until after I moved back to Flagstaff.  And it's just kind of trippy how much life has happened since then, from the small stuff like TV shows to the big stuff like mental health.  Honestly, sometimes it seems like everything with him never even happened, and it breaks my heart to feel that way, because I did genuinely love him.  So many things have come after, though, that that time is kind of buried under all of it.  Even a lot of the happier memories are starting to fade, and when they spring to mind (because they do from time to time), I find myself questioning the details instead of smiling.  It makes me so damn sad to think that how I felt about him has faded away like other memories do.  I genuinely didn't think that would happen, and I don't like that it has, because it just feels wrong somehow.

It's hard to put into words how I feel about my ex and the whole situation three years later.  It's not a consistent feeling.  Most days I don't think about him, but there are times when I inexplicably miss him.  Sometimes there's a trigger, like a song that comes on or something someone says or whatever, sometimes it's just totally out of nowhere.

I can tell you that I'm still not 100% over it.  To be honest, some of that is because I won't let myself let it go.  I can tell you that I'm not angry at him for breaking up with me anymore.  I am angry that he never came back.  More precisely, I'm angry that after I left, and then after he saw that I was getting better, he was never curious about whether it might work between us then.  I'm angry that he never made an effort to get to know the real me.

I wonder, all the time, about that.  I have for three years now.  I wonder what it would be like to be around another now.  If we'd still get along.  If that spark that was there on our first date would still be there, if all those old feelings would come rushing back.  I wonder about him, too, sometimes.  About what he's been up to since we broke up, about what his life's been like, about this experience from his perspective.  Aside from him moving back to his hometown a year after we broke up, I don't know anything about his life now.

I know, for sure, that I still regret screwing up and letting him go.  That hasn't changed, nor will it anytime soon.  I had an amazing man, we were so in love, and I completely fucked that up.  I wish so much that I had done things differently back then.  I may end up completely over my ex someday, I may end up married and spend my life with somebody else, but that regret will never go away.  I'm OK with that.  Corey will always be my one that got away, period, and I'll always wonder what might have been.

I fell in love with him on our first date, and I do still love him.  I would love to just talk to him, about us and everything that happened and where we are now and just see if there's anything still there, because I still feel like I haven't completely gotten closure where we're concerned.  If the opportunity for a conversation ever came up, if he were to contact me, I'd absolutely listen.  As much as I'm sure that'll never happen, I'm always going to hold out a little hope, because that's just who I am.  I'm not sorry for it.

But that hope, and the fact that I would still like another chance with him, doesn't rule my life and it absolutely won't stop me from living my life.  I want that to be clear: I'm not just hanging around hoping/wishing/praying for my ex to walk back into my life.  I've got my own plans and I intend to follow them.

So that's that, I suppose.  Three years behind me and my whole life ahead of me.  I am so excited for whatever the future holds, whether my ex is involved or not.  And I am truly grateful for these past three years, because even though they started with this awful heartbreak, they have been amazing.  I love who I am now and where I am now, and I've loved being able to figure out who I am as a person and embrace that.  I'm happy to be healthy, and I'm happy to be happy!

Struggles and Stuff

I now know for sure that my full body soreness is just from my POS air bed.  For the past few weeks Jerbs has been offering to let me have her bed for a night and I keep declining because . . . I don't really know.  This morning I woke up as she was leaving, and I felt like crap.  I was so sore, and I'd slept maybe 2 hours the whole night, so I figured, what the hell.  I threw her blankets and pillows on my bed and moved mine over to hers, and I crashed.  I crashed hard.  I fell asleep basically as soon as I layed down and I didn't fully wake up until my alarm went off.  When I got up my hips didn't hurt and my back didn't hurt . . . glorious.
--------------------
Remember how I was talking about feeling like a failure and now knowing how to get out of that feeling?  Well, the thing is, I know what I need to do to fix it.  I know what I need to do to fix myself.  I have a whole list of self improvement goals right here on this blog.  And at one point  I was really determined to do all of those things.  But I get to points where I feel so behind that there's really no point in trying to improve.  What's the point of becoming the best version of myself now when I've already wasted so much of my life?  I'm 27 years old and have really done nothing with my life, and honestly, the thought of trying now and being determined now just seems pathetic and stupid.  I don't know how to shake that feeling of pointlessness in getting better.  Hopefully this has something to do with my low Li levels.
--------------------
I got my Lithium today.  Which is good.
--------------------
Tomorrow is the deadline to a short short story contest I'd been hoping to enter and unfortunately, I wasn't able to finish a writing project for it.  I'm disappointed because I had a few good ideas in mind and this contest had a big prize but . . . oh well, I suppose.
--------------------
After I wrote out that entry about giving up as far as Ex-Fiance is concerned I got to thinking about the whole setting a deadline thing and I started to wonder if I was right.  I know that I screwed up in our relationship too and I don't think his needing time/space is surprising or unreasonable.  And maybe it's unfair of me to say, be better by this date or it's not happening at all.  One of my goals was to let him get better while I did . . . and who am I to dictate how long that'll take?**  At the same time, I'd feel totally differently if I'd had any indication of how he was doing during this time apart.  As it is I stand by what I said.  New Years Eve.  If nothing's happened by then the new year will be my new start.  Then again, who knows?  Maybe I'm not even going to give it til then.
--------------------
I think what I'm struggling with most is just that something that meant so much and was such a big part of my life could be . . . just nothing.  Y'know?  Like . . . I can't even really put into words how strongly I felt about him.  And how much I really did believe that I'd spend the rest of my life with him.  And I know Ex-Fiance felt that way too and it just kind of blows my mind that it went from that to nothing.  And that eventually, he'll marry someone else and that'll be his real future, and that I'll end up . . . well,  somewhere else at least.  It kills me and it makes me wonder how we ever get over anything at all and what the point of love ever really is.  I know that sounds jaded and more like a Taylor Swift song than something anybody actually thinks but . . . I kinda do.  More than anything I realize now that I never, ever, ever want to put myself in a position where I can get hurt like this again.  Ever.  Which means that as much as I love the idea of soul mates and romance and true love, I'll probably spend the rest of my life single.  And if I avoid this ever happening again it'll be worth it.  Besides, I can't just turn strong feelings like that on and off and fall in and out of love; it's all too much for me, I think, so the dating scene really will never be my thing.
--------------------
**I know it always comes across like Ex-Fiance has all the power in this situation--like whatever happens between us is going to be at his say.  And in a way right now that's true.  But only because I feel like my cards have been on the table since the very beginning.  I've made it clear since the break up happened that I want to get back together, whereas he's been the one who was unsure.  (Well, not unsure, but you know what I mean).
--------------------
In a way I've started to feel like it never happened.  And that's really disconcerting.  In the time since I've been in Flag I've (obviously) thought a lot about Ex-Fiance, and usually the thoughts give me . . . well, feelings, I guess.  Like remembering happy things either makes me happy or sad, flashing back to the breakup itself pisses me off, imagining him moving on with someone new makes me anxious.  And now . . . now it feels like just nothing.  Like when I think of him, whether it's about good or bad, I have no strong feelings either way.  Just indifference.  And granted I've been feeling pretty indifferent towards my whole life right now, so maybe that'll all dissipate once I'm re-medicated.  But it's what I'm dealing with at the moment.

Puzzle Pieces

I think one of the issues with my relationship with Corey was that in a way, he was the catalyst for my seeking help for my mental health problems.  Even though I'd known for quite awhile before we met that I needed to get help, it wasn't until we were together and he was encouraging me that I actually did it.

And I admit that he was a big part of the reason.  He made me want to get better.  He made me feel like there was something worth living for, because he was worth living for.  Not that he was the only thing but he was the big one, if that makes sense.  There was just something about how much he said he loved me that made me feel like living was a good thing instead of a bad thing.  Like my life actually meant something to someone.  I know I meant something to my family too but they were far away and busy, and I know I meant something to Jerbs, but she and I had our own set of issues back then.

Now, I don't necessarily think there's anything wrong with one particular person in your life finally making you want to fix yourself.  But I think my disorders made it hard for me to focus on anyone other than Corey, even in the context of getting better--and that's not healthy, to hang all of your hopes on one person.  And I knew that then and I never really intended things to go that way.  I envisioned it as, girl meets boy and falls in love, boy inspires girl to seek treatment and get help, girl gets better and she and boy fall even more in love now that she's healthy and able to be a good partner, happily ever after.  And instead it went something like, girl meets boy and falls in love, boy inspires girl to get help, girl gets help but is terrified that changing at all will make boy leave her, gets too caught up in being in love with boy to focus on her own issues, things fall completely apart.

I think a lot of it had to do with identity.  I thought, Corey met me and feel for me when I was still sick, and maybe he won't love me if I'm well (stupid, I know, but these disorders are not know for being rational).  And I didn't know who I was when I met him, and since I didn't know who I was alone, I could never figure out who I was in the relationship.  I guess the lesson is that it's dangerous to lose yourself in someone if you're not grounded in yourself first.

There's nothing wrong with being lost in someone as long as you know  the way back to you.  I didn't.

Ultimately, I feel like I'm putting together a puzzle, getting my life together.  School, work, car, money, treatment, they're all pieces.  And I think that Corey--or just love in general, be it with him or someone else--is still absolutely a piece of that puzzle.  It's just going to have to be the last piece, not the first piece.

Crushed

So I went to Kingman for a couple of reasons.  Obviously I wanted to see my family and hang out with Saucy, and I planned to pick up some boxes at my old house--like my winter clothes because it's getting pretty cold up here and all that.  

And I wanted to see Ex-Fiance.  I've just been missing him so much lately and I've been wanting to see him.  So on Thursday I texted him and asked if he wanted to have dinner on Friday.

And wouldn't you know it . . . I chose the one weekend he was going out of town to Chinle.  And it just depressed me, because I don't know when I'll make it to Kingman again.

But things were OK until I had to go to the house and get my stuff.  I'd been dreading it and the butterflies in my stomach as we (Austin and I) pulled up to the house were intense.  My mom met me there and in the end I couldn't even go in the house--I gave her my keys and told her to just open the garage.

She did, and seeing all of my stuff piled there--including the bookcase and desk I'd told Ex-Fiance he could keep using--just made me sick.  Like, it made me physically ill.  I just wanted to be done with it and I tore through there, grabbed the boxes I needed and got the hell out.  It was awful.

I hadn't expected it to be easy.  I knew it was going to be a difficult experience, and  that's one reason I was so disappointed that Ex-Fiance wasn't there--I'd thought it would be a little easier to do if there was a sense of friendliness between us, if that makes sense.  Seeing all of my boxes piled up like that brought back how it felt to be packing them and dreading moving and all the other bad things from when we first broke up--and those are the feelings I've been working very, very hard to get past.

It was a horrible experience and I just wanted to get out of Kingman at that point.  I'd planned to stay until Sunday afternoon, but on Friday night, I got to thinking I might leave Saturday night, and the whole getting my stuff thing cemented it.  (And then that made me feel guilty for leaving early because I felt like I was abandoning my family, and then I felt some of the anger towards Ex-Fiance come back).  

Plus I think my PMDD cycle has started so that did not help things at all.

I just felt crushed afterwards.  I felt completely emotionally destroyed.  I felt like I had made no progress whatsoever and I was right back at square one, right where I'd been when I left.  I felt defeated.

I'd been expecting something different.  I'd thought Ex-Fiance and I would have dinner on Friday night and that things would feel friendly between us, and that alone was something I was looking forward to.  I was looking forward to the silence being broken.  And if that had happened it wouldn't have felt quite so awful to go over there on Saturday and get my things.  

I'd also been hoping, in the very back of my mind, that seeing each other face to face after a couple months might spark a conversation about us.  And losing that made me feel a bit panicky, I guess--the longer we go without discussing anything the more worried I am about it.  But I'll elaborate on that later.

But there IS a silver lining.  As crushed and sad and all that as I felt, I didn't have an actual breakdown.  Those negative emotions were intense but not breakdown intense--just normal woman dealing with a breakup and still being in love with an ex emotions.  So that, at least, is good.

More Ramblings

I think there are 2 big reasons I had trouble settling into life with Ex-Fiance.

1.  I think in some way I never felt like I had a right to him.  I don't want to get into detail because I don't like remembering all the details, but my and Ex-Fiance's getting together was a bit . . . scandalous.  Maybe that's not the right word, but something like that.  Ex-Fiance was (very) recently single when we met--like, he'd been single a few hours when we bumped into each other.  We started dating a week later and it made quite a few people very angry.  And one person spread a lot of rumors and I lost a lot of friends, and it was a stupid petty nightmare.  And Ex-Fiance reassured me throughout that he was happy with me and loved me no matter what anyone said but I think on some small level I internalized all that shit and as a result I was never able to feel like he was really, truly mine.  And I still feel that difference; other women get to introduce their new man to friends and have girls who could be bridesmaids and . . . I didn't have any of that.  So I felt like I was doing it wrong somehow.  (I realize now how dumb that is, and even though I don't know how to get over it yet, being away from Ex-Fiance has made me realize how silly it was--I don't care how we do it as long as we do it).

2.  I didn't feel like I was good enough for him.  When we met I had no job, I was drastically out of shape, I was mentally unstable, I was sharing a cell phone with my roommate (who was also my ex girlfriend).  So . . . yeah.  Meanwhile Ex-Fiance kind of seemed like everything I wanted and I think I was jealous and a little resentful.  So.  Yeah.  I'll elaborate later.

Ex-Fiance was in an unhappy relationship before me and I wanted to make him happy.  And it turns out I was actually worse for him and that makes me feel like shit.

I remember thinking that if he got over her so fast and could be with me already then he must have never loved her.  And now he's gotten over me just as quickly and completely and I feel like nothing.

I don't understand how things just end.  It's bizarre to me that I lived with him.  That I was engaged to him.  That I thought I'd be with him for the rest of my life.  That I woke up with him on Christmas morning in Chinle, that we cooked Thanksgiving dinner together, that we shared a car, that I helped him decorate his classroom . . . I just . . . I guess I just kind of feel like, how can that not be my life?  How can that not be it?

People now seem to get engaged left and right and break up left and right too.  I know a lot of people who have been engaged and broken up like it was nothing, and I just . . . I don't get it.  I can't do that.  I don't give my heart away lightly.  And when Ex-Fiance asked me to marry him and I said yes, I saw it as a commitment.  I wasn't just saying yes to wearing a ring and being called a fiance, I was committing to him for the rest of my life.  To the engagement and the wedding and everything that came after in the marriage.

I don't know if I ever felt like Ex-Fiance was that committed to me.  But I think the doubt was just the mental illness.

I wish I could just turn my mind off for a day or two.  These thoughts are exhausting.

Ramblings

I have so much on my mind lately.  I'm kind of in that phase of my head is just constantly moving.  It's not really in an anxious way just . . . crowded, I guess.  Like instead of being linear and focused my thoughts are kind of spiraling out in all directions and they're random.

Most of it is Ex-Fiance related, of course.  I think about him a lot lately.  I miss him so much.  September 20th would be our second anniversary and I'm dreading that day because . . . well, obviously.

I don't even know where to begin.  I have no idea how to begin to sort or categorize these thoughts, if that makes sense.

I just . . . I miss him.  It was this time 2 years ago that I was falling in love with him, and it was the most amazing, wonderful thing I'd ever felt.  I can't describe it, and I'd never felt that way before.  I loved him, and I loved how I felt when I was with him, and I loved who I was when I was with him.  I felt whole and healthy.  He made me want to get better.  He made me feel like getting healthy was worth it.  I think one of the reasons I'd never really tried to get mentally healthy before was because I never felt like there was anything worth getting better for.  I never felt like getting better would improve anything--it wouldn't make my debts go away or get me a job or make me lose weight.  But then I  found Ex-Fiance and I felt like there was something worth getting better for.

It wasn't just him.  I mean, I wasn't just thinking, I need to get better for Ex-Fiance.  He made me feel like I could do anything.  He was supportive and encouraging of my writing and always told me that he'd support whatever decision I made about grad school/careers/etc.  He just made me feel like I could live my life, like I wasn't a total failure.  He made me feel like the life I wanted was possible, and that was priceless.  I have said before, and will say again, that whatever happens between him and me in the end, I'll always be grateful to him for that.  Before I met him, I was hiding and sort of shutting myself off from the world and I hated that.    It is strange to think about that beautiful beginning and how it led to nothing.

I loved the life I thought I would have with him.  I loved the thought of being a bride and having a beautiful wedding and taking his last name.  I loved the thought of living together and hearing about his day when he came home and cooking dinner together and just . . . all that silly domestic stuff sounded so good.  I loved the thought of growing old together, and I really did imagine those things.  I never realized that was something I wanted out of life.  I never thought I wanted to get married or anything that went with it but . . . Ex-Fiance changed my mind.  Before the mental illness got bad, I was still unhappy, and I remember this weird sense of feeling like I was longing for something but I had no idea what.  I think it was that life--I think that was the answer.

But that was the beginning, and nothing turned out like I thought it would.  I just . . . couldn't get past the mental illness.  And I'm so mad at myself for that.  So so so mad.  That life was right there, waiting for me.  It was sleeping next to me every night and kissing me goodbye every morning and coming home to me every afternoon.  And I . . . couldn't.  I just couldn't live it.  And I don't know why.  I wanted it more than anything and I loved him so much and . . . I don't even know.  I feel like I had all of the ingredients for the best meal ever sitting out on the counter, but I had no clue how to put them together and I didn't have a recipe.

The thing is, though, that when I hear from or about people who ARE living that life--girls I knew in high school or college who I keep up with online and bloggers I follow--it's like, something about it just seems like it's not supposed to be mine.  Like I will never actually be a woman who can live that life.  And I try not to let my head go there and I tell myself that I can and will live that life, but that I have to get better first.  I tell myself that it is possible.  But there are days when I can't stop myself from feeling like Ex-Fiance and I could have stayed together for years and I never would have been good for him the way I wanted to be.

That's what I really hate myself for.  The fact that I couldn't be the partner he needed.  The fact that I failed when I so wanted to succeed.  That when he needed me I couldn't be there for him.  And that I lost him because of it.

But in the end I think Ex-Fiance had changed too.  When we first met he was this sweet, idealistic, romantic guy and by the end he seemed hardened somehow.  Which is probably because of a few things--being out of school and in the real world, moving, financial strain, the stress of his job.  But I'm certain I had something to do with it.  I shut him down.  I ruined him, and oh my God . . . that is the most awful thought to me.  That I took this really sweet wonderful guy and made him cynical and angry and . . . good Lord I hate myself for that.  I can't stand the thought that I'm the reason someone needs therapy or antidepressants or something like that.  Even if he wasn't perfect in our relationship either he never deserved that.  The worst thought is that there will be someone after me who undoes that and who does all the things I wanted to do for him.

I don't understand myself.

I am still hopeful.  I hope with enough time and enough help (for us both) that we'll be able to talk things out and put the past behind us and start fresh together.  I know that's unlikely but I just . . . I can't give up yet, I guess.  I still believe in it too much.

Random Memories

Once when we were shopping at Cost Plus World Market, we were looking at a day bed thing, and I said I wanted to have one of those in my home office someday.  I said it was where I could sleep when we fought, and Ex-Fiance laughed and said we'd never have fights like that.

I almost always went to bed later than Ex-Fiance.  Some nights when I'd climb into bed, he'd half wake up and tell me he loved me or that I was beautiful.  Other nights, if he'd been dreaming, he'd say funny stuff--once he told me he was trying to get the class' attention; once he told me to go move my clip up (a disciplinary thing from his class room).

Once when we were first dating we took a trip to Hobby Lobby with Jerbs.  Jerbs bought me something while we were there, and on the drive home I said, "I love my pillow, thank you Jerbs!"  And Ex-Fiance said, "I love my Jessica, thank you God."  I'll never forget that.

I used to love looking back at the percussion section during orchestra and seeing him there.  I loved that, a good chunk of the time, I'd look back to find him looking at me too.

The first time I went to Chinle with him it was over Halloween weekend; Halloween fell on that Sunday.  We ended up staying late enough to hand out candy with his family, and once that was over, we went to a family friend's house.  She had a fire going and a bunch of people from the hospital over and Ex-Fiance pulled me away from the crowd at one point and slow danced with me.  It was amazing.  Later that night when we got back to Flagstaff, Ex-Fiance asked me to marry him, and even though he'd asked before "for fun," that night I felt like he meant it completely for the first time.

A few months after we started dating it snowed for the first time that winter.  Ex-Fiance suggested we start a tradition: the first snow ornament.  The deal was that every year on the day of the first snow (or as close to it as possible) we'd buy a new ornament for our tree together.  We bought a Polar Express ornament in 2010, and a romantic Christmas tree one in 2011.  I loved that tradition.

Ex-Fiance'd never had a real Christmas tree before we met; I grew up with real trees and only had fake ones in my dorms/apartments.  So last Christmas, since it was our first Christmas living together, we got a real tree.  We named him Percival and decorating him together was so much fun.  We decorated our whole house too, because we both love Christmas.  We spent our first Christmas together in Chinle with his family, and waking up next to him on Christmas morning was so wonderful.

One day in September of 2010 Ex-Fiance took me to the Deer Farm.  After that we spontaneously drove to Kingman and he got to meet my family for the first time.  When we got back to Flagstaff I decided to spend the night at his place for the first time.  Of course we stayed up late talking (like always) and on this night I confessed to Ex-Fiance that I have a phobia type issue with sunrises.  (Long story, related to my anxiety disorder).  And after I told him that he kind of paused.  And then he told me that it didn't scare him and it didn't weird him out at all; then he said that all he wanted was to be the one who was with me when I could watch a sunrise and be OK.  I think that was the moment that I knew that I wanted to be with him forever.  I mean, I'd had an idea since our first date, but that moment cemented it.

Anyway.  I don't know why I'm putting this all down here.  It's just where my head's been the past few days.    These are the things I want back, because no, things weren't perfect between us but . . . damn, we had some beautiful moments.