Put down the gelato and the spoon.

     Break ups suck--no matter the reason or why a couple broke up. A mutual-we-both-know-this-isn't-working-break up is almost worse than a knock down drag out because there really are no hard, resentment, hatred towards one another. You want to be mad and throw a tantrum, but you really don't have a reason to do such a drama queen act. When the ex and I broke up two years ago, I went into a depression that sucked for about 3 months. It involved a lot of tears, lots of fitful sleeps and well, you get the picture. I haven't had that same reaction recently. I have had some restless sleeps because I wake up at 2 AM with my mind racing of random scenarios. Shed a few tears out of pure exhaustion. But the one thing that I have found myself experiencing once again is the loneliness and the rejection.

     It's been a wide range loneliness. Yes, the lack of physical contact has sucked but you get used to that when 500 miles is put between the two of you. Well, you don't get used to it, but you learn to deal with it. You grow accustomed to talking to the same person everyday for a year. Someone that you share your day with--the highs and the lows. Someone that you vent to (my Wednesday afternoon rants were always fun and my frustration in the education system) and someone that makes you laugh (white boy can rap). And especially having someone that you can plan dinners and outings with to give you something to look forward to each week or special occasion. You feel like you have been rejected--rejected from a relationship, rejected from plans, rejected by someone who doesn't want to be with you anymore. I think this hit me the week of the Fourth because it was the first holiday in a year that I only had to worry about what I was going to do that weekend, which ended up being a total blast. But, not making plans with "that someone" was hard for a few days that week. Realizing that someone wasn't worried about what I was doing and me not having to worry about someone else was an odd feeling. I found myself recoiling and not really wanting to be around a lot of people at the end of that crazy weekend. As Meredith says, "You crawl into your hole and we have to dig to find you" or something like that.

    The other night I was sitting on the couch eating peanut butter chocolate gelato, watching TV absent-mindedly, and reading. After a few minutes I looked down and realized I hate the whole freaking container of gelato. It's not your normal size of ice cream container but still. I ate it all. A few things went through my mind at that point.

1. Good job. You ate all the gelato. Now what?
2. You're a fatty.
3. You must find your tennis shoes and get back to running.
4. You're pathetic. Get a life, again.

   As I got up to dispose of the evidence, I told myself I needed to get a grip. I wouldn't say I have been moping around the last few weeks but just not really having the energy to make an effort to get out nor truly groom myself. My mother brought this to my attention this weekend in the pool. If I contacted you or conversed with you in the last week, consider yourself privileged and brave!

   I know I have friends to vent, veg out, and validate life with (love my use of the "v" don't ya?). They are wonderful, as usual. But, it is all about finding my balance and getting used to being on my own again. I think everyone needs their own time to take it all in, readjust, and figure out your next step. For me, it is something to keep my mind busy and my body busy. If you know me, you know I absolutely hate getting dressed during the summer. No lie, the other day I almost shed tears because I had to fix my hair, shave my legs, and put on adult clothes. I am spoiled by my two and half months off of professional dress. A friend made the comment last night to me, "Do you ever wear anything other than a bathing suit? Every time I see you, you have a bathing suit on." And can we talk about my hatred of washing my hair during the summer...or any other season of the year... So, I have decided I need to put forth extra effort in getting dressed each day, and force myself to make plans to see friends. It's not that I don't want to see them, it's just my desire to get ready. Hashtag lazy.

    Strosie needs to get her groove back, or I'll end up eating all the gelato at Ingles. But the good thing is there will always be margaritas and the Wii. It's amazing the energy you exert in a sword fight.