Month: April 2014

It Happened.

On March 3, 2013 at approximately 7:30 P.M. my heart was held by a lovely man. About 30 minutes later, that same heart was dropped by said man and I knew my life would change forever.

It certainly did.

And oddly enough, I have never felt better.

That night, as soon as I mustered up the strength to stop crying for a moment, I deleted every social media outlet I had.

Twitter.

Instagram.

Facebook.

He would be shunned from my eyes, ears, and mind. For some, if not many, that’s how it has to be.

Go ahead. Tell me of one person who healed properly after a heartbreak by constantly looking at their ex’s pages and staying somewhat in their lives.

And I don’t mean those mutual break-ups we all know of where the two even become best friends.

I mean the break-ups where one person looked to the other as forever and the other reciprocated with “it’s over.”

That kind.

I may have taken it a bit too far, which I regret from time to time.

I completely eliminated any thought of him from my psyche. I ignored his friends, who had become somewhat mine by being with them for close to 4 years. I know now that if I ever saw them again, I would apologize unconditionally for such a dramatic exit. I just couldn’t bear to look at the people I once laughed with whilst holding his hand.

Though all of it was the right thing to do at that moment in time, today is about change & rebirth.

It was the right thing to do because it helped me move on. And that’s what I want to share with you.

I have officially moved on.

I told you guys about my minor breakdown last weekend with The Drummer. I released so much more than tears that night. I released my soul. That part of me that, since last March, spent months building brick walls and never stopping or breaking them for another. The Drummer had nothing to do with it. In fact, I think for a split second he was a bit freaked out by my drunken sad, yet happy face. I still don’t think he fully gets what happened, but that’s okay because he wasn’t supposed to be there for that.

Days after my breakdown, I sort of missed my Instagram. No offense to twitters or facebookers, I still have no interest in being on there. But oh, how I missed taking pictures of my food! You know what they say – PICTURES OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN!

So, I broke down and made an Instagram.

I was looking for people to follow and used my “contacts” on my phone and guess who appeared?

The Ex.

So I clicked on his page. And looked through it.

AND FELT NOTHING.

Not a thing.

Not a tear, not a heart flutter. Nothing.

The only thing I felt was what I can only describe as an old love washed away type of feeling.

It was incredible. I still smirk when I think about it. I’m so freaking over it.

I never thought I’d get here. It makes me want to pour my heart out to all of you who have and are still suffering from the same type of heartbreak. There is hope. I promise you. Each and every one of you. When everyone you talk about your break up to record scratchingly tells you “time heals all wounds…you’ll get over it…you won’t be crying 5 years from now…”

They are totally right. Annoying. But right.

I’ve waited almost 14 months for this moment. Patiently, mind you. And though it hasn’t been easy, it really hasn’t been that difficult either. I took the end of my relationship as the beginning of the relationship with myself, as Eat Pray Love as that sounds – it’s true.

It’s about finding yourself. And changing. And learning to forgive.

Forgiveness.

I’ve never hated my ex on the outside. I’ve always said, I don’t hate him for not loving me anymore. Because I knew that was the right way to feel. But I never felt it on the inside – where my heart is.

Now I truly do. I do not hate my ex. In fact, I can honestly look at our relationship and smile. He isn’t this perfect being held high on my pedestal anymore. He is simply a man that I once loved. And he loved me too. It just didn’t last, nor was it meant to. And none of it was his fault.

His feelings changed. I’m positive that he loved me, and I’m positive that his want to be with me fizzled out. I can’t blame him for that. I used to always say to him when we fought, Don’t blame me for how I feel. You can’t tell me how to feel. And I will not tell him how to feel either. Just like his need for me fizzled out, mine did in time as well.

My story might not be the same as yours. You may have been abused. You may have had a really shitty relationship.

Or it was like mine. Perfect. Then poof. Gone.

If you feel any similiarity to me, please know that you will go on. You will be okay. But ONLY and ONLY IF you believe you will be okay. If you try. I’m not saying you have to feel okay or already be above it by now.

I’m saying you have to take the first steps. You have to walk the hard, uneven road to get to where you want to be.

Let go of the anger you feel towards your ex. Just let it go. Hell, even if it WAS a shitty relationship, you have to let it go. You may sit in it and feel it for a while, but eventually you have to stop. You can’t clean the dirt off yourself by continuing to sit in the mud pile. Nobody moved forward by staying still or walking backwards.

And nobody has it easy. If it was easy, it wasn’t love.

 

 

 Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you

If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
Remember
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land.

-Pablo Neruda

 

 

 

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Oh Hey, WordPress.

Um, WordPress? Is that you? Do you remember me?

Does anyone even read my stuff anymore? Haha

My apologies for being an awful blogger. Life has a way of making your interests change with the wind. It isn’t that I’m not interested in writing anymore. It’s just I have been preoccupied with other things that I have less time for internet searching & writing. Plus, the amount of writers block I have surpasses any ability to “publish post.” Like, when I tell you I’m having a hard time blogging, I LEGIT am. I have about a dozen posts where I have a few sentences written in each and they are collecting dust in my drafts. I just have so much to say, how in the hell am I having trouble writing it all down?

I officially finished with classes last week for the summer. I decided to take some months off because the weather is starting to get nicer and I really wanted to enjoy the seasons. Last summer was seriously the best summer I’ve ever had (AND I was single, mind you) and I don’t want this one to be any different. It’ll give me more time to be outside, be with my friends, and of course to work out more.

Which BY THE WAY, I’m 8 lbs over my goal weight and counting! I’m honestly not looking to lose more poundage, it just comes with the territory of working out every day. However, if I lose any more than 9 lbs, I will have to start eating more because then I’d be underweight. Who the hell would have thought I would ever have that issue? Haha!

And I assure you all, it’s from the healthiest way possible. I eat 5 meals a day and workout 4-5 days a week. I keep my body completely nourished and I pay very close attention to what I’m eating. My mom gets all worried because I’m so crazy about it, but she needs to relax. I’ve been quitting smoking, cutting down on drinking, and now I’m addicted to….fitness?…eating healthy? OHHHH THE HORROR! Someone get me a Marlboro.

Jokinnnng.

I’m not going to lie, life has been pretty good. It’s a bit dull because Spring has just sprung and it’s still a bit too cold to venture outside of the business walls, but rest assured I will be out there.

I know some of you may be wondering how me and The Drummer are doing, and honestly I have no complaints. We’ve been dating for about 5 months! Can you believe it? Time has honestly flown and I couldn’t be any happier. We are so different, but mesh together so well and that’s part of the reason I keep coming back for more. He’s intelligent, honest, and I value his opinion because it makes me think of something different than my own – even if I don’t necessarily agree with it. I never would have thought a year ago that I would be where I am, with who I am with, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I did have a bit of a breakdown a few weeks ago. Drunken conversations fueled some tears and frustration in me that I buried pretty deep for a while. OHHH the first Lara cry of the relationship: Drummer, you are officially welcomed into my life. Not with frustrations at him at all – but frustrations in myself. Though I had been going through the motions of the relationship and truly enjoying our time together, I refused to admit to myself that I liked him as much as I do. I never really spoke about him to my friends (though he’s met them) and when people ask how we are I simply just say “fine.” Though I know, it’s more than fine. It’s great. It’s wonderful. And a relationship like ours deserves some boasting. But I had been just so subconsciously afraid of giving “us” that positivity or even anything at all, that I’ve been holding back.

And I can’t do that anymore.

I am happy. And I have to stop being afraid of being happy because that was one of my downfalls of the ex-relationship. I worried for so long that our relationship would end that I never enjoyed it fully.

I have quite the opposite with this relationship – I enjoy it to the fullest because I never know what tomorrow will bring. And I don’t worry anymore. Or worry at all actually.

Life is too short to put any effort into negativity. You just have to take whatever life throws at you and accept it with open arms – even if it knocks you down sometimes.

I’ll elaborate more in the near future – I just wanted to give you guys a quick update on life because it’s been so long. And my writing is awfully rusty. I still read – don’t you worry. I know ALL ABOUT YO LIVES!

And for anyone just tuning in, I will be a better blogger. I promise! As soon as the sun gets hotter, the creative juices will start flowing. Ew. That sounded kind of gross actually.

x

Breaking the Habit Part One

My relationship with cigarettes began when I was 12 years old.

I took a drag of one at age 8, but I don’t count that. I was so young that it probably wasn’t even a drag.

But 12 years old.

I used to baby-sit for this woman who became addicted to morphine after having surgery on something or another. She had 3 children, a set of 6 year old twins and an 8 year old.

And there I was. Cooking. Cleaning. Bathing. Getting them off the bus. Helping with homework.

I was more of a mother to these children than their own. At 12 years old.

I even had to cut one of the twins’ hair off one day because her mother hadn’t bathed her since the last time I was there, and her hair was so knotted the only way to fix it was to cut it off. Poor girls. Poor, poor girls.

But that’s a story for another day.

The mother used to smoke Newport’s and kept them in her bedroom dresser. Sometimes she would be home while I babysat because she was so drugged up, her kids needed someone else there to take care of them.

One day, the oldest found her mother’s cigarettes and cried hysterically. The mother insisted they were not her cigarettes, but mine. The oldest daughter turned to me.

Oh yeah? Prove it.

I remember it clear as day. I was sitting on the edge of the mother’s bed, looking at myself in the mirror that was attached to the closet door directly across the room. I lit up the cigarette and smoked (well, as much as 12 year old knows how to) it. Staring at myself. I honestly thought I was the coolest kid on two feet. I sat there for the rest of the day, puffing on cigarettes in front of the mirror.

And then I was hooked.

The mother would leave me packs. In her drawer. Every day.

One day I was smoking in the bathroom while the mother was home, and I heard the cops bust through the door.

Scared to death, I threw Barbie toothpaste in my mouth and ran out to the police dragging the mother out the door. The husband had apparently filed a restraining order against her.

She fell asleep a few nights before. Smoking a cigarette. Almost burned the house down.

A danger to her family. And an unfaithful one at that. Her husband had caught her cheating on him with his stepfather.

That’s some Springer shit right there.

I’m guessing the restraining order was revenge on the mother. The father died a few years later of a heart attack.

To this day, I still wonder what happened to those little girls. I hope they made it through life okay. They’d be 20 and 22 right now.

But I’ll always remember, that’s where my addiction began.

And I’ve been spending the last 4 months weaning myself off of a pack a day. I’m down to 3.

And for my birthday gift to myself, I’ll be down to zero.

Happy Birthday, Lara! You’re saving your teeth! Your skin! Your lungs! Your life!

But let me tell you, it hasn’t been easy.

That’s why this is only part one.

End of Winter Limbo

March 21st.

That’s the last time I’ve blogged. I sometimes wonder what has gotten over me.

Last year I was writing DAILY. The creative juices were flowing like freshly squeezed OJ.

Lack of material? I don’t know. I suppose. Last year I was a serial dater and an avid dancer/city girl extraordinaire. With school, working like crazy, and cold weather, I’m much more of a homebody.

But there’s SO many things I want to write about.

Lack of time? Probably so. School has consumed me these past 5 weeks. I only have 3 more left until I take the summer off, so it is my duty to myself to blog more. To write more. There’s so much going on inside this brain of mine. It’s not like I have lost my thoughts. Or have I?

A lesser anonymity? I let The Drummer read my blog a while ago. I don’t know if he keeps up with it currently, but every now and then I’ll tell him a story and he will reply with the fact that he read it already. Hah. For that reason, I’ve sort of stopped writing about post break-up things though I long to do so. I’d feel awful if he read some of it and took it personally. Like, I shouldn’t still be grieving over my last heartbreak whilst in a new and blossoming relationship. Or should I? Can I? Can I still be hurt at times though I’m fully present in my current relationship? I don’t know the answers to these things, I’m inexperienced in this whole realm of life. I don’t think he’d mind but I’m cautious to ask. Well, I suppose if he reads this then cat’s out of the bag.

The only other person I trust with the URL to my blog is Taco. He’s the only person in my life that knows my thoughts from the very deep depths of my psyche. Some days I have so much to let out. Some days I’m just numb because I’m busy. But on the days where I do want to get things out on here, I hesitate because of who will read my blog. It’s not that I’m trying to keep anything from my relationship with The Drummer. It’s just, I feel like it isn’t fair that he gets to see this side of me – this side that I don’t get to see from him. Knowing someone face to face is so much different than knowing someone’s words. Someone’s writing. It’s more intimate. There’s no holding back. At least when you are face to face, you [should] think before you speak. Here, in my little blog space, I don’t really do much thinking before I write. Of course I think about my topic-that sort of thinking. But, I don’t hold back. Most of the time I feel like I’m just talking to myself. I forget that I have an audience. And then all of a sudden I look at my stats and I’m all like WOAH! I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THAT COUNTRY EXISTED AND SOMEONE FROM THERE READ MY BLOG!

These are issues I need to weed out soon. Because nothing feels better than to write the words that are stuck inside my head all day. I’m surrounded by people that love me daily, but sometimes I feel misunderstood. Or just down right weird for that matter. That’s why I love my blog. Where my weirdness can go into archives.

So I shall write more. When my creativity comes back and I stop being a wuss about what my boyfriend will think of me if he reads my weird shit. And when the weather gets warmer. I know it’s technically spring, but can New England get a little warmer please? Thanks.

Sorry for the word babble. I missed this. And all of you. I still read. Just not as frequent as I should be.

Love your life and most importantly yourself. x