Tag Archives: crying

The Little Lie

I do my best to remain truthful in all aspects of my life, including avoiding “white lies.” My non-essential memory bank tends to resemble room temperature Swiss cheese: little holes where things can just slip through and the rest is kinda gummy that holds on tightly to things that land on it. Phone numbers for elementary-school friends are in the gummy section, lies easily fall through the holes. Aside from the generic “Okay” response to the person in the elevator that asks how I’m doing, I try to remain honest.

But there’s this little lie I’ve been telling people I don’t know well, mostly people in my office building. I’ve been telling this little lie for a few months and I’ve told it twice today.

Twice today two people who don’t know each other told me at different times of the day that my pants are looking like they’re going to fall off. I replied, as I do anytime someone says something like that, with, “Oh, thank you,” kinda blushed a little and tried to avoid their eyes… because I knew what they were going to say next and I knew I was going to tell them a lie.

“How are you losing weight?” or “What’s your secret?”

Because people in my office don’t need to know the intimate details of my mind or emotions, because people in my office don’t know anything about me aside from my typing speed, because I know my voice will catch and my eyes will start to water, because I know the truth hurts me more than the lie hurts them… I lie.

“Oh, just paying closer attention to what I eat.”

Because people in my office don’t need to know that break-up depression is affecting my appetite. Because people in my office don’t need to know that I’ll be hungry, start to cook something, and then remember how he liked it or how he’d put red pepper flakes all over it or that he didn’t like it, and suddenly my heart is in my throat making it hard to swallow, my stomach is churning and threatening nausea, my mind is rapidly running down guilt-trip lane and I can’t think about food anymore.

Because people in my office don’t need to know that break-up depression is the most effective diet I’ve been on in years.

Because people in my office don’t need to know this, I tell a little lie.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Tears

I’ve been doing ok the last couple of weeks. Had a girlfriend Carrie over and she let me cry and get mad and didn’t judge. She nudged me to go out and be with people. While out with Carrie one night I met a guy and we hit it off. We talked long into the night and swapped digits. I’m hoping to see him again soon.

Today, while checking emails between Doctor Who episodes on Netflix on my Apple TV, my screensaver started up. And there are pictures of him still on it.

I went through my phone and deleted nearly 100 pictures from my Photo Stream to prevent it from happening again.

And now I can’t see for all the tears.


When will it stop hurting?

Just A Stupid Girl

I’ve gone off the deep end. I knew it was a risk, that it could jeopardize everything and prove an unwanted hunch to be correct, but I had to do it.

Back in March I’d come across a really good deal for a 5-course meal at a really nice restaurant in Los Angeles that was just too good to pass up. Brad and I were always looking for fun and new things to do in L.A., and this seemed perfect. So I made a reservation for our 1-year dating anniversary.

Which would have been today.

I have not been able to move forward without Brad. Everyday things, normal occurrences, common sounds and even ordinary smells are constant reminders of what I lost. I feel like I have to wrap my arms around my stomach to hold myself together, to keep from falling apart at a moment’s notice. Somewhere in my heart I kept thinking that things will get better between us, that we will try again. Every night I have wished for him to call me, to talk to me, to write to me – to tell me that he accepts my apology and is willing to try one more time. I also have prayed for peace and understanding, but I’ve been asking for what my heart wants. Things have improved some between us. He “liked” some of my Instagram photos and he responded to a message I sent him of nothing really important. And he didn’t seem angry anymore. But he’s only been responding to message I send him; I should not allow myself to think that things are better just because he’s responding. He hasn’t initiated any conversation of any type with me, just responding back.

I know he’s been super busy with work lately, with a major 3-day event in LA and his game launch coming soon. I can’t really expect him to be thinking about us during all of this. But I’ve been hoping. And so I did something that now, in hindsight, was really stupid, foolish and just plain dumb.

What was I thinking?!? He told me he couldn’t see us trying again because it wasn’t worth the risk of pain that he was certain would return. He told me the way our relationship came crashing down had caused him so much stress and anger and he couldn’t handle it with everything else going on. He told me that he needs to focus on his work, that he’d moved out here to follow his dream and our relationship wasn’t meshing with that.

But I had to try.

I sent him flowers on Friday with a note that I loved him and missed him, that I would be at an address – the same restaurant I’d made reservations for months ago – tonight at 7 and I hoped he would, too.

Why I actually thought he would show up – I don’t know. Maybe I’ve watched too many movies or read too many novels. But I was hoping with the big event this week now in the past he might be more relaxed and capable (and willing) to think about “us” again. I’m more embarrassed by the thought that I’d actually believed he would show up than I am by the fact that I am sitting alone in a romantic restaurant.

I’ve probably angered him more. I’ve probably crossed that line into obsessive ex-girlfriend who can’t understand the word “No.”

Well, I understand now.

Tonight was my last hope. The silly girl inside of me who prayed and wished and cried herself to sleep will be locked away forever. Because Brad is right about one thing.

It’s not worth the pain.