Advice I could have used a long time ago

At the end of the Lipstick Jungle Pilot, Nico Reilly (Kim Raver) says to Wendy Healey (Brooke Shields):

"You are not a loser. You're an extraordinary person. You are funny and you are scary smart and intense and gorgeous and larger than life and you deserve to be loved because of those things, not in spite of them."

I finally found the answer to my question

Early this morning, before I'd even gone to sleep, I lay in bed, wide awake with the realization that I shouldn't be sad. This came, of course, after a marathon viewing of What About Brian. Here's what I decided.

My life is not a tragedy. Sure, things don't always go the way I wanted or expected them to; my life is not what I had imagined as a little girl... But it isn't all that bad. I'm intelligent and I have dreams. Not only that, but I'm constantly taking steps to make my dreams happen. I'm in college, a place to which some never make it, and I'm doing well.

I'm going to be fine because I am a person who cares about others. People can make snap judgments about me and decide they don't like me or even accuse me of being judgmental, but the truth is, I'm a loving and forgiving person. I know not all people are perfect. Trust me, I know this. And I don't expect anyone to perfect. I of all people know how hard it can be to live up to others' expectations and I couldn't put that pressure on others. And there are people who love me. It may not be a perfect love and maybe sometimes I feel alone but the truth is, I'm OK with that. There is no one on this earth who never feels lonely. I just have to remind myself of that.

Also, because I am a forgiving person, I'm going to forgive the one person I've been hardest on lately. My mother. I'm going to stop talking about her and how much I hate her boyfriend, cause let's face it, I do. But that's not the point. The point is, she's making her own choices. And while they do affect me, I'm not going to let them bother me anymore. I will learn from her relationship -- I will take away from it the knowledge that I want something better. I don't mean to sound rude, it's just the way I see it. And that's the thing -- I'm not saying that what I see is the absolute truth and so I will from now on stop worrying about it. My mother can live her life and include me when she wants to. In the meantime, I'll do other things to entertain myself.

Speaking of love, I realize that love, true love, at least the kind I envision for myself, doesn't come along every day. And I shouldn't beat myself up that it hasn't because some day, at least I hope, I'll find what I've been looking for. I'll find love with someone who will work with me on our relationship, someone who will support me as much as I support him, someone who is driven in his own life so that he can understand my drive. He'll come.

He'll be tall, and kind of muscular, and he'll like to read -- at least he'll read what I write -- and he'll watch football with me without getting upset that he has to explain some of the rules again and again, and he'll watch romantic comedies with me even if he refuses to admit it to his friends. Most importantly, he'll love me just the way I am and will make me a priority. We'll be partners but he also won't be afraid to take care of me now and then.

He might not be here right now, and maybe he isn't even right around the corner, but somewhere down the road I'm on, there he is. And the thing is, I know I don't have to do all the work to find him. I'll take chances, follow the signs, and someday, there he'll be, just as great as I'd imagined him to be.

I finally think I get it. Who I am, I mean. It's so much more simple than I used to think. I am Rosella Eleanor LaFevre. I am a human being. I am fallible and I am beautiful. I am someone with dreams and the drive to make them reality. I am passionate, in all meanings of the word. I am a highly emotive being, and that's not something I need to apologize for. I am a caring person. I love my family and my friends. I am a giver. I love taking care of other people, I love helping whenever possible. This doesn't make me weak, as has been suggested. I do it because it makes me feel good, not because I seek the approval of others. Oh, and that's another thing. I don't need others to validate me, to tell me I'm a good person. I know I am. I am someone who loves to write; it being my favorite thing to do. I love a good book, and a good movie, and a good TV show. I love being someplace I feel comfortable and can't wait to have my own home someday. I am more of a homebody than anything else. I love good food. I realize life is short, and I refuse to make excuses or apologize for doing what I want.

I am all these things and more. That last rambling paragraph may not sound so simple, but the truth is, I've been those things all along. That's what made it so simple. I can't believe I never really realized it. I kept expecting that the meaning of "me" was something lofty... It isn't. I am defined by the things I do, the way I act, the things I keep in my heart. That's the truth and that's the answer to the question I've been pondering for so long.


One last thing:

Life, I've discovered, is messy. But that's what makes it beautiful. We all make mistakes. We learn, we grow. Sometimes we repeat our mistakes or lose track of where we're headed or what we want. Sometimes we need to slow down and think things over, but neither should we be scared to race full speed ahead. The only thing worse than living is dying. And I don't plan on doing that for a really long time, so I'm just going to plunge head first into the deep end.

Forgotten like Sam, but with no Jake Ryan to make up for it

My new boss replied to one of my emails tonight (er, last night?) pretty much saying he wondered why I wasn't out having fun. Um, that would be for two reasons. For one, no one invited me to a party or even just to hang out this New Years Eve. Two, because New Years Eve has never meant 'fun.' Well, last NYE was kind of fun. I was with my Grammy and watching Ryan Seacrest and Fergie host Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve. But I felt about as alone as I do this year.

Lately, my mind has been solely on a previously mentioned quarterback. I know I'm being ridiculous, worrying about some guy who doesn't even know I'm alive. Trust me, I really do realize how Sixteen Candles it is of me. If only my Jake Ryan were plotting, unbeknownst to me, to "get together." Why would he though? I'm the sorry loser who sits here blogging about how much fun she's not having because no matter what, she's always out of reach of her dearest dreams. There's nothing attractive about that.

I know I should probably hold out hope that 2010 will be the year -- the year Mr. Athlete notices me and pulls me from oblivion into his world which I find so fascinating -- and a little part of me does, but the larger part is yelling that I cannot expect it to happen, that this year will be as much of a disappointment as every year before it.

I wish this (below) were outside my door tomorrow morning (er, later today), making up for the fact that I spent my New Year's Eve with my dad watching Marie Antoinette and eating Chicken-flavored Ramen noodles and drinking Artic Splash iced tea while everyone else I know was out getting drunk if not having a good time. And let's face it. Getting shitfaced would have been a lovely option given the circumstances.

This is how a heart breaks

Ever want something you didn't -- or couldn't -- have so badly that you could actually feel your heart breaking?

If so, welcome to the club.

Rules, playing fields and landmines

In the world of Waldorf (Santa treated this journalist to the second season of Gossip Girl), the ex who dates first is the one who wins.

But it's not winning when you date someone else or at least give dating someone else a shot and end up realizing that while, yes, you can move on, you don't want to.

All I can think about is what I want and what I'm not getting. I'm not enjoying myself or living in the moment. I'm not sure anymore if I can open up to a new guy. And if I do, what pace should I take?

Guys are scared easily, from my experience, but if you decide to let things unfold naturally, and to open up as you feel comfortable, they want you to open up right away. I don't know.

The thing is all about rules... When there are no rules, the playing field's riddled with landmines and the players, taking their lives into their hands.

I can understand why a player would wish to return to known territory. I mean, it's not exactly in my war plans. Just saying, I can understand why.

Q's Without A's

Are there any guarantees of a relationship's success?

Some relationships start out perfectly -- or as close to perfection as you can imagine (and let's admit, the beginnings of relationships are generally looked upon as having been perfect by the end) -- and end badly. Or even just fade; the fading of a relationship is worse than a bad ending. At least that's how I look at it. When two people let their relationship just dissolve, will they ever have closure? I'm beginning to fear not.

And what does this mean for a new relationship?

This is the sad tune I'm playin'

Here's part of the email I sent to my best friend:

I'm tired of being a fly on the wall at social events. I'm tired of being the girl who cries by the end of the night because she feels SO lonely. I've never been the girl who needed a boyfriend... But I am now. Because the more I'm left alone in my head, the more crazed and unlovable I become. I'm sick. Like I really feel emotionally sick, if that makes any sense.

I'm sorry I'm not really elaborating... I just don't have the ability to put the reasons and feelings into words (beyond these) at the moment...

Yeah I really can't explain further at the moment.

There's a reason I feel this way but does the reason matter?

If there were a breakup manual, a "Dump Him for Dummies," it would probably include a step where you send all of his stuff back to him. It happens in all the movies and my friends always send things back to their boyfriends when relationships end.

What if you aren't so sure it is over? What if you did not want it to end, but you thought you had to to cut your losses? What if you're still in love and you still want him to be the first person to know every single minute detail about your day?

I am sure you guessed it but yes, I am talking about me.

What a happy Thanksgiving it was. I broke up with my boyfriend.

He says he didn't see it coming. I had. For weeks, we had barely been in touch. I was wrapped up in my school work and writing and who knows what he was wrapped up in? He sure wasn't keeping me up to date. I felt like I was doing all the work in our relationship. And it got to the point where I wondered what I had done wrong, why he didn't seem to care anymore.

On Thanksgiving day, I decided I needed to be on my own. I made the choice that felt like the only right choice for me.

And god, was it hard. My mom said to do it like ripping off a Band-aid; quick and relatively painless.

There is no such thing as painless when a relationship comes to an end -- or at least a page break.

For a week now, I have wrestled every day with the urge to call him. Or Facebook him. Or IM him. Something, anything. Preferably to hear his voice.

But I do not know what he wants. As long as we were dating, we said that we would stay friends even if we broke up. Now I think that was just pillow talk, you know, those sweet things that give you hope while you're together but in the end have the same effect as lemon juice in a paper cut. It burns.

This part of my chest, the part where my heart is supposed to be, it burns.

I'm going to send him some of his things this weekend. Maybe, if I can work up the courage to even write a letter, I'll send a letter with the package that explains why I did what I did.

What the letter could not explain -- and what I have yet to figure out -- is whether I really miss him or am just lonely. It isn't that I don't care about him -- I really do love him -- but could the reason this hurts so much just be that without him, I don't know who will get me through this?

But since when does the reason behind the feelings matter more than the feelings themselves?

Helpless.

Watching Stepmom, with a headache, when I already feel bummed out for a reason I can't lay a finger on, probably wasn't the smartest idea I have ever had. Every time I watch this movie I end up sobbing.

But today I already feel like sobbing without having to watch Susan Sarandon suffer through chemotherapy while another woman becomes such a big part of her children's lives.

I don't know why. I should be happy. But somehow, I never really am. There's always something missing. And I feel like I've written posts about these same feelings a million times...

They recur constantly.

And I try to fill that void I feel. Probably why I've been working myself to the bone lately (two internships, writing for The Temple News, blogging -- although that's been sporadic lately, and for this I do apologize just in case anyone's actually reading this). I love writing, don't get me wrong but I think the reason I've been doing so much is so that I can avoid thinking about this void inside.

I cannot figure out for the life of me where it comes from. And it terrifies me that I can feel empty for some reason I know not of. If I don't know the root of the problem, how can I ever weed my life of it?

Emptiness.

Why?

Why?

Why?

I feel so helpless.

To squeeze or not to squeeze?

...Sounds like the title of a piece I could read at Rachel Kramer Bussel's In The Flesh reading series. But what I'm getting at, borrowing my language from a line in the 2004 movie The Girl Next Door, is this:

The question I'm facing right now: If I go through with this, will I regret it?

I am trying my best to figure out how to handle a situation that I never wanted to find myself in -- and yet it has happened again and again. How do I express my feelings so that I may find inner peace without permanently damaging my relationship with another person? According to Kelly, a porn producer in The Girl Next Door, the first rule of politics is this: "Always know if the juice is worth the squeeze."

As for me, I cannot figure out the politically correct way to handle this. I do not want to burn bridges. Especially not this bridge. It's not like it's the Golden Gate but still this bridge is worth more to me than almost any other. But what about this island-unto-itself, my conscience?

Can that be worth more than this bridge?

Sorry if I'm losing you amidst all these rambling thoughts. It's 1:54 a.m. at this exact moment and I cannot sleep yet I am not fully awake.

Now it's 1:55 a.m.

And I am no closer to a solution than I am to sleep. I wish someone would give me a remote control for my brain.