Losing my romanticism

17 12 2011

My ex once told me, “Life isn’t like a movie where the gay character comes out and everything is good.”  And even though I didn’t tell him, I thought, “Why not?”  After all, although movies feature fictional stories and characters, there must be some sort of reality or truth on which they’re based, right?

My other ex told me the other day, “Glee and Twilight are fictional.  They’re made for people to enjoy, to believe.”  And then I thought the same thought as before. Sure, the invisible Rachel eventually getting the crush of her dreams– the quarterback of the football team, nonetheless– might be created for teenage girls to watch and swoon over, but that’s not to say it doesn’t happen.

Maybe I’m the only one out there who believes that airport-chase scenes and interrupted-wedding scenes are possible, are a sure way to get back the person you love or at the very least, make them see that you love them, so that later, they would do the same for you and you’d end up together.  Yes, I would be the one to do these things.  Maybe it isn’t realistic to believe that it happens when I’m the only one to believe they do.  Maybe I’m the only one who would do them.

And I have done them.  Not as dramatic as a running after someone in an airport before their flight leaves, but on a smaller scale.

But things went differently for me.  There was no, “I see things differently now.  Let’s get back together” or “I’ve been really sad without you too.  Would you like to try us again?”  Maybe I did things wrong.  Maybe my exes just really didn’t want to get back together with me.  However, the more I think about it, the more I’m begining to see that nothing is guaranteed.

I said to my ex that day, “Maybe stories are just unhappy realities with happy fantasies tacked on as endings.”  The more I think about it, the more I realize maybe my first ex was right.  Maybe life is not like a movie.  Maybe it’s time for the romantic who finally put away these scenes are only fantasies and not realities.

I have been watching this scene over and over again from The Broken Hearts Club for the past few days.  It kills me every time Howie starts to say, “I hope that you’re happy together.  I hope that this works out and he’s everything that you need.”

I think I need to accept that sometimes, once things are over, they are over.  I can try to hypothesize solutions or analyze what went wrong in order to figure out possible suggestions.  That isn’t a bad thing.  But a relationship is two-way; I can’t always be the one with suggestions when the other person doesn’t want to listen or help come up with things.  I think I need to take a step back from these movies, shows, and books and see that you don’t always get what you want, and some people don’t want to get back together or work things out.  There aren’t always happy endings no matter what I think or do.

Not all the Howies get their Marshalls back.

[scene starts around 4:25]


I think I really do have PMS

9 12 2011

Not just when I’m awake but when I’m sleeping too, apparently.

Dream– Dec. 8th

There were multiple parts to the dream, but here’s the main part which I remember.  I was in a restaurant, dining alone and feeling pretty sad.  There was a table of three women sitting in front of me, having a great time, from what I could see, and that kind of made me sad too.  I got up and went to the bathroom.

Although I was sitting in a stall (I guess I didn’t need to pee?), I found I couldn’t properly close the stall door (which is a common thing in my dreams — being unable to close doors).  I heard some people’s voices and saw G. there, with someone else.  Not knowing what to do, I got up and went to meet them.  I said hi to G., and asked what he was doing there.  He said he was dining with his aunt.  His “friend” had one of those “Hi, my name is _____” sticker name tags and I saw that he was a volunteer or possibly a worker at a local gay organization.  G. explained they were friends but I could clearly see that they weren’t (ie. touching each other and being semi-romantic right in front of me).  I felt terrible and awkward so I left the bathroom and sat down at my table and started eating again.  I think I was eating a salad.  Anyway, I was absolutely miserable after that encounter and was trying my best not cry but I ended up bawling while I was eating.  When I looked up, the three women sitting in front of my having a good time were looking my way, and I wished one of them would come and sit with me so I wouldn’t feel so alone and bad.

None of them moved.

Now publicly humiliated, I ran out of the restaurant and back home, where I sprinted past my questioning mother and proceeded to bawl my eyes out on my bed, as she asked me again and again what happened.

That was basically it.  It makes me sad just thinking about it now.

Just a few more days before my PMS goes away and I stop thinking about him for another month.