It's such a beautiful day today...blue skies, sunny...a perfect day to go out to the park, to go running. Especially since the last couple days have been a little gray. But of course, I had to sprain my ankle yesterday dashing down a spiral flight of stairs--trying to catch up with a prof. Well, that didn't happen.

There's so much I should be doing. But, I keep thinking about my stupid ankle...if I wanna be travelling soon, I gotta let it heal. Damn me.

It's already mid-afternoon and I haven't said a single word to anyone today. Just continuing my pathetic existence in this room...not getting any work done...and feeling progressively more and more lonely. And I don't care about the redundancy. Tautology rules.

I shouldn't have let yesterday pass unspoken for...it's just that so much was going on. No, that's not an excuse, I tried to force myself to leave it unspoken. Hooray for me. I was feeling particularly melancholy. And even more frustrated. My parents found this web site...which is now it's so exclusively isolated and exclusive that the random people who (bless them) do read my site somewhat religiously...that I do not know well or personally...no longer have access. How frustrating.

Par contre, now when, if he ever does, he checks my site to see how I am doing. He will see it nicely nonexistent. That makes me feel somewhat vindicated, revenged...and happy. I know, that's evil. I know the fact that I take my happiness from this fact shows myself to be more dependent and tied to him than otherwise. But dammit, let me at least enjoy this one perk of a very messed up situation. Plus, he just cancelled his site without saying a damn thing, and it was a site created during our relationship, I would say even metaphoric for our relationsihp. (How puerile am I?)

Now that I'm trying to be positive about this blog change...I can be more open about things...because I can really monitor my audience. I was worried that my dad would be able to hack in, but now that people just think it doesn't exist...I think I'm in the clear. It's like invisible cloak mode. What's best...I still technically own the domain site. What does this mean for you reader? You mighty handful of oh...two or three people? It means you get to hear me discuss, rant, whatever...without much (or too much) hesitation. That means more interesting stuff, private stuff...and possibly offensive stuff. Certainly will make for more fun reading. If you can ever get through all the rubbish I throw at you within the same post.

Anyway, I digress. Yesterday would have been 1.5 years of that relationship, which no longer exists and that we will no longer call by name. I had formerlly thought myself incapable of longterm relationships, of really entering coupledom. So, it scared a couple of my friends when this happened. Heck, it scared myself. But, as a friend told me..."It takes a lot more than love to make a relationship work."...another told me..."At least you know you are now capable of such things" (The latter is a paraphrase...).

I have been inundated with wonderful advice, etc...that I just want to remember.

-Spontaneous is good, but at a certain point it's just irresponsible.
-There are many true loves, but it is up to you to determine which is your truth.
-Take care of the little things and the big things will take care of themselves.

I have been trying to live my life to these short pithy statements (one might call them aphorisms)...it's hard, it's trying...but, what else can I do?

People's reaction to my finalizing the "break" into a "breakup" have been mixed. Most didn't understand the significance of the change. Most didn't realize who they were dealing with here. He (and I surely hope I will soon be able to realize that "he" with another, far nicer, far more comforting, "he") is mister all hot or all cold. He doesn't seem to do friends. I knew this. I know this. I just don't want to accept this.

Because that's not how I do things.

However, I think on a certain unconscious level, I have accepted it. My friend called him a jerk and immature for not responding to an email I sent him. Another said he was rude. Well, I was actually surprised...because, I never even thought he would respond. I hadn't even fathomed that possibility. I knew about his other breakups. He just blocked the people's email addresses. He has even changed his locks, etc. Wow, huh?

At this point...while long-term relationship can conjure up images of comfort for me...it makes me rather want to run for the bathroom and vomit out my innards. Luckily, I've got time.

In all honesty, I learned so much from my relationship with him that I cannot truly say I regret it. Sure, sometimes I wonder, knowing what I do, if it was worth it. But...I would say yes, even now.

And I still want to be friends with him, have him in my life, etc. I guess that's just the way I work. And it's a freakin' shame he doesn't work the same way. Another part of me just wants to obliterate his very existence from my life. To never contact him again. Live life without him ever knowing about me again.

The fact that he knows where I'll be living for the next two years...kinda messes up that whole thing. Oh well.

In a way, a part of me feels/knows that the story is not done between us. There are still too many things, feelings to work out. Perhaps I'm speaking for myself.

While we were dating he said so many things, made so many promises. I dismissed them then, I dismiss them now. But it does hurt, thinking back, remembering what he said...and feeling it to be all crap now. Untrue...won't be true.

So why make the "break" a "break-up"? Why?

When the whole thing was going on he said I didn't want to "build back our relationship" or something like that. I frankly told him that there was no building going on at all. That all the silence was demolishing what was left, what's standing. He just didn't get it. He said he'd give me my space. I told him, it's the space that's messing things up. That I never needed my space here, half way across the world, in another country, alone. But he never got it. Or maybe he just didn't want to.

I honestly feel I was the only one not acting cowardly when things came to push and shove. I called things how I saw them. He might have called it a "break"...but it was a freakin "breakup"--and I'd been hurting from it ever since I got to Paris. He blamed me for former problems, for not understanding his current life trials, how hard is life is now and giving him shit instead of supporting him. And so I tried never to expect anything from him.

That killed whatever was left of our relationship. I couldn't tell him how lonely I was feeling in Paris, I couldn't email him. I couldn't say anything. I couldn't talk. He would get offended by most of what I said. Emotionally blackmail me about previous incidents. Blame me for things. And yes, I would be upset when he didn't call/email/AIM for weeks or a month at a time. During the most trying months of my pitiful life. Perhaps you wouldn't. But I just wasn't that strong at that point. And I don't know if I am yet.

So yeah, as he put it: "No expectations, but expectations all the same. Beautiful."

And I did have expectations. Because for me we were on break, not a breakup. That doesn't mean stopping all communication.

I tried not being hurt when he said he had no time to use email, gimme a call, etc. But then signed up for the school Glee Club and made numerous calls to my sister's friend who is also enrolled at his school. I tried not being hurt when he said he couldn't afford calling me (even tho I offered paying for it), because he just didn't have the money.

Btw, it costs $0.03 to give France a call from the U.S. That's $3 for an hour and forty minutes of calling. But apparently this is where the lack of time (two minutes) comes in. It was fine. I never gave him shit about it after he told me to "support him." I just stopped talking about how I was doing. Tried to give him the superficial support he needed the few times (read: once a month) he did contact me.

Those short contact moments nevertheless always ended with some spiff. With him referring to my "other guys" in his insecure, biting way. Me telling him there weren't any other guys. It was just unhealthy.

I tried not to be hurt when he implied that he couldn't call me because he was always in the basement of his school on the computer, online, on AIM...and I should get Internet--and I did, and after the first day we accidentally met online. He was never on again, until the day we broke up.

I didn't like the person this break was making me. I had always promised myself I would never be one of those girls. And yet, all the crap, the transition to life in Paris plus the relationship crap was really messing with my head. I wasn't myself anymore. I hadn't been myself in such a long time. It was time. The only way to get his attention. To get through to him was to breakup. He could have gone on like this for the next year. Of that I am sure. In his passively violent way, this whole thing was really screwing with me. I didn't need this. Not here, not now. Not ever.

And so, that's that. We broke up online. I would say I initiated it. But he definitely carried it through.

I started feeling a little better about it a couple days after my sleep escapism stunts, depression, etc. As my posts will reflect. Because I was finally able to be free of expecting anything from him. Because I just knew he'd do that cut thing. I felt fresh to begin.

But those comments about him being rude not to respond made me wonder why I had taken that nonresponse as default, for granted. I don't know. But it hurt thinking about it.

Everyone I speak with says this will only make me stronger. I just feel like it will add stress, age, and jadedness to my already pretty jaded self. I need distraction.

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