Waiting for the click

So here I am again, waiting.
The click.
The famous click.
The click, after which nothing will be the same.
All will be different.
All will be good.
All will be forgiven, forgotten, let go.
I will be a whole new person.
Stronger, more confident. 
High self-esteem.
More beautiful.
The click.
In the meanwhile, I do nothing, of course, but waiting.
I stopped with the meditation.
I stopped with running.
I just manage through the day.
I did a lot of shopping lately.
Emptiness.
Pure emptiness.
Void.
Waiting.
When will the click come.

Drunken thoughts

After a looong time had a glass of wine. Or two.
I have really big glasses for wine. Really big. Because, you know, I'm a big girl and stuff like that.
Actually, he gave me those glasses. 
Appropriate.
Just a few days ago I finally gave in and went for a drink and lunch with him.
Innevitable question, what happened, why did I ignore him all these past couple of months.
Simple truth.
He just wasn't there for me. 
I needed him. 
He wasn't there.
Yes, he fell madly in love (this too shall pass).
But ... he just wasn't there.
And when he was, this one or maybe two times ... he just wanted to make sure that I'm OK about him and him being in love.
Yes, I am OK about him.
No, I was not OK about me then.
To short things up, he said he was sorry.
Like so many times before.
Middle-age crisis is a bitch. 
No fast car, no younger girlfriend, no dancing course can give you back what you have lost for good.
I have stepped back.
My work here is done.

Not angry anymore.

Today is sort of Alanis Morissette day. Have her Best Of album on repeat.
Still, You Oughta Know is my favourite song.
The lyrics.
The line:"Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity?" is lately a lot on my mind.
It's not like we have been together, had a (love) relationship or something like that.
But you did called me a friend, a close friend.
And then, puff, it was all gone.
You just weren't there. 
Still expected of me to behave the same, to fall at your wink, to always be there for you.
As I was there for you throughout the summer. And fall. And winter. All the times you felt lonely.
I'm not bitter anymore because you moved on, found love and you're happy.
It's just ... you weren't there ... you are not here ... and you still think everything is OK.
You still expect me to feel highly of you. To "worship" you as I did before.
Think again.

Obsessions.

Figuring it out.
Changing one obsession with another.
Changing obsession with him for another.
I can perfectly see how I'm slipping into it.
I see it. Clearly.
Nevertheless, I'm slipping into it.
Starting to drown.
You know, when you need to stop it, but you still doing it.
All the fantasies, all the thoughts.
You say, stop it. Stop it right now, it does you no good.
You stop. For a minute. For couple of hours.
But then, he says he's trying to emotionaly blackmail you. Like, in a joke.
And then you say, fuck it.
You want emotional blackmail? I'll give you one. It will eat you up alive.
Subtle. Over time.
Don't play with me boy. You did me too much harm already.
I let you do this to me. 
But, here's the line. 
You shouldn't have tried it. 
Really, you shouldn't have.
I planted a seed. It will take some time to grow it. 
And when you realise it ... I will be gone.
I will no longer be even slightly involved in your life.
Not even to see it how it hits you.
You just weren't there for me. Not when I needed you the most.
Playing with my emotions. Manipulating. 
So not right.
It's not getting even. Or mad. 
It's just letting something happen.
Obsession.
You will feel what I mean.

Fitting in.

I miss writting. And I miss me.
Still tired, still overwhelmed with stuff going on inside my head.
Gained weight. Feeling sorry for myself.
Got a new loan. Paid some dues back.
He is utterly happy in his private life. Miserable at work. 
I am miserable privately and at work.
You can't really tell. I do smile a lot. And make fun. And make silly faces.
But I started to cry a lot, at home, in the silence of my flat.
Realised, the cool kids are cruel. And I just don't belong there.
Realised, I don't have much time left for the things I really need to do and change.
The pain in my chest is increasing. 
I get dizzy a lot.
A pile of worries gets over me.
One day I'm totally focused and disciplined.
One day I'm just a lazyass. Not moving a thing about myself and my life.
The breaking point is coming.
It started with a movie. Now with the book upon which said movie was made.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I totally get it. I totally feel it. 
It scares me.
And it comforts me. I am not alone with this thoughts. These mind games.
Still refusing to make important changes. Still making excuses.
And still dreaming about a better life.
Well, better life will happen when the changes will be made. 
So.
I need to finish this book. And get some sleep. 
Tomorrow is the final day of my meditation class. I will get a certificate.
And I will start the lessons over again. 
Because I have skipped them too many. 
And in this class, the class of Life, skipping doesn't really pay up. 

Edge.

Have new haircut. 
It's a girls thing. Something goes wrong, you have all these feelings, emotions, ups and downs, and suddenly you have a new haircut and everything is OK, world peace is finally here and unicorns are dashing through the sky. 
Not quite.
I would really love to see unicorns dashing through the sky, really.
Still, what's here is my new haircut. Short. Very short. Blond. Edgy. Totally edgy.
It's just a mask, honestly. 
A mask to hide my vulnerability at the moment. 
Yes, I'm working on my feelings and fears and my emotions, handling the situations and myself.
But still, I need some protection, feeling too fragile right now.
And feeling fragile while coping with stressful work and people is just wrong combination.
Hence the mask.
The hair. The darker lipstick. The high heels. 
The indifferent attitude.
The "I'm quite bored right now" expression on my face.
This gets me through the working day.
Then ... I start to fall apart ... no more energy to keep the mask on.
So I become distracted. Tired. Not sociable. 
I get irritated over little things. Dramatizing. 
Confused. Not quite here/there. 
It may look like I'm in my zen place, but actually I'm in my utter chaos.
Nevertheless, things are looking up.
The sun is back. The cold is gone.
There are certain dreams I'm having, certain signs I'm getting.
Things are looking up to be great again.

No more steaks. (it's not about the meat)

So, yeah. He's in love. 
Great way of finding out that your intuition and clairvoyance has finally kicked in.
Well, at least I know now that I'm gifted.
And that is something.
I guess this means less and less hanging out.
Even now he totally neglected me. 
I am angry. And sad.
Angry because how dares he neglect me. All the things we were supposed to do together ... he better not doing them with her.
Sad because ... well, although it's perfectly clear to me, we are not meant for each other ... the tiny tiny hope was there. And because I was hoping to meet someone special before him.
It just doesn't seem fair to me, that's all.
I deserve love and happiness too, so why ... why am I still in this painful period of ups and downs and pain and thinking and ... why ...
It doesn't seem fair to lose him.
And no, I'm not being overly dramatic. I will lose him. It was, after all, also a part of my decision, to let go of him, for my own good.
But in my mind, letting go would mean I meet someone else and he fades away.
I should be the one to be back on my feet first, not him.
Yes, I will lose him. 
Even the friendship. We were friends. Close friends. His own words.
Also the talks, the hanging out. Him taking me to great meals. Ohhh, all the steaks. And wine. And the talks. And me flirting with the food and with him. 
I feel like all this is taken away from me and it's not making me quite happy. 
But I guess ... I guess there's something better prepared for me, right?
Someone ... better ...
(steak is optional ... red wine too ... just ... just meet me ... and be here for me .... )