Rehab Round 1

*loaded sigh* Sometimes this sad, empty sense of hopelessness just creeps up on me…

I had a lovely weekend. My family and friends worked so hard to make me feel special and loved. My old hairdresser came out of the woodwork to give me a new ‘do, free of charge. My mom and sister crafted their asses off to complete a birthday table-scape rivaling Martha Stewart. My friends shared their favorite L’s stories. They so desperately just wanted me to feel happy. I did too. I pulled my poofl E aside, however; tears brimmed as I expressed frustration with myself. Despite everyone’s best efforts, I was just… sad. So, so sad. As always, E had my back. She gave me a cig even though I said I couldn’t have one, she hugged me and told me earnestly that none of it mattered. I was allowed to feel all the feels… Luckily, Drunk L’s has a weirdly sobering (haha) sense of clarity. After a plethora of wines and 3 shots in 15 minutes, I no longer gave half a fuck, beyond finding a birthday lay. My first prospect, as per usual, let me down. But the Sex God…. Fabio?…. smiled down upon me as I caught the eye of a cute boy, a friend’s coworker. We chatted for 15 minutes, and I confessed my ulterior motive. Gratefully, I didn’t receive a balked stare in return, I didn’t see a guy battle with the vulnerable girl quotient. I got an honest, ‘ok!’ I got what I wanted, and a ride home in the morning. It was refreshing to be around just a… nice person.

Sunday I barhopped in the beautiful sunshine, surrounded by friends buying me drinks who didn’t get a chance to the previous night. Again, I ended up at my favorite bar. I got a sweet, heartfelt birthday message from my ex-ex… or whatever you would call him? I shared my bottle of delicious, aged ‘break up scotch’, a lovely present from a family friend. And again, I got a nice person in return. I got someone to hold me as I cried, to give in to my desires, to assuage my despair with an empathetic ear.

Goes down smooooth...
Goes down smooooth…

I had a lovely day today. I drove to the coast, the wind in my hair, defiantly singing along to my breakup playlist. I spent the afternoon with my beautiful aunt, my supportive uncle and my adorable cousin. My aunt, who has this uncanny ability to make any situation glass half full without sacrificing the depth of experiential pain, gave me a book by my favorite author (Paulo Coelho), a book on building your creativity, and many words of wisdom. I shared the recently realized idea that I may, in fact, be able to write a book one day, a dream which I always assumed was beyond my capabilities. My uncle bought me fish tacos and shared his own relationship philosophies, in a way which defied condescension and instead fostered a bond unknown to us (at least me) before. And my cousin gave the world a million dollar idea: Peep s’mores. Totally getting a patent for that.

I came home relaxed, with calm determination. I did the dishes for my host, showered, pampered myself and sat down to write and enjoy some more scotch as Silver Linings Playbook performed in the background. But I couldn’t write… not until I sat crying at the end of the movie, over two broken people who manage to find each other despite their own hangups.

I’m coming to the realization that after this mess, I’m probably destined to be alone for a while, because I have to be. Logistically in general, emotionally in specifics. I haven’t become whoever I’m supposed to be yet. I’m getting there… because 28 year old L’s is waaaaaaayyyy less lame and more awesome than 18 year old L’s, but I guess I still have some growing to do. Some self-confidence to find, some gifts to nurture…

Some baggage to unpack…

I’m trying to be optimistic. I’m trying to be hopeful. Sometimes though, I turn around and I just feel… lost….

Current Jam: “A Fond Farewell” Elliot Smith

I see you’re leaving me
And taking up with the enemy
The cold comfort of the in-between
A little less than a human being
A little less than a happy high
A little less than a suicide
The only things that you really tried
This is not my life
It’s just a fond farewell to a friend
It’s not what I’m like
It’s just a fond farewell to a friend
Who couldn’t get things right
A fond farewell to a friend

2 thoughts on “Rehab Round 1

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