I was unprepared in some aspects and prepared in others. 

Friday morning I put all of the clothes I had borrowed from him into the laundry.  Then when I got home I packed up them, his non-refundable birthday gifts, his uncle’s book and some other stuff in a bag.  I put it in the trunk of my car only for worst-case scenario purposes.  Then, thankfully, I went out on Friday with friends and did not worry about it too much.

Saturday morning I woke up and took a shower. I was excited that I was finally going to see my boyfriend.  I had another birthday gift coming in the mail and I had already re-designed my plans for his birthday celebration/poker game.  I plugged in my straightener and was settling into the Best Week Ever when my cellphone sang my favorite part of that Justin Timberlake song.  It was him.

I answered and was happy to tell him about my Friday night.  I had already put the past fights behind me. We were ok.  But after he told me about his evening and he became silent I knew that I was in trouble.  His first question to me was to tell him what was on my mind.  No way. I knew what was on my mind was probably different than what was on his.  And I am a talker and I didn’t want to run with the conversation.  So I refused to answer.

We went back and forth for a while about if we were going to meet up and talk face to face. He kept making excuses until finally telling me that I wouldn’t want to drive down here because I wouldn’t like what I was going to hear.  My heart dropped.  I gave up and asked him to just tell me then whatever it is he had to say.  I should have stood my ground.  I should have told him to come up here and do what needed to be done.  To act like a man.  But I didn’t.

And so he went through his list of excuses about how we are different; family life, socially, etc.  He said that there was no time to see me and that was unfair to me.  He said that sexually we were opposites.  I was very into everything and he was not into much.  I sat and I listened and I also had to pull the information from him.  He had made the decision but was not interested in owning it and getting it done with?  I was crying but I was not hysterical.  I was mad but I did not yell at him.  My weakest moment came when I asked if there was anything that I or we could do to fix this.  I knew that there wasn’t anything but I asked anyway.

Then I was asked to tell him my side and it sounded somewhat foolish to tell him that I had always just assumed that they way we talked and the plans that we made would allow us to be together in the future.  I told him I had not picked out China patterns or anything but I had at a time felt confident that we would be together for a long time.  And then I asked him something I should have asked him a long time ago.  I asked him what he saw in his future or if he ever thought about us in the future.  His answer was that he had not thought about that.  To any normal person who would have asked the question months ago it would have been a red flag.  For me it was a white one. I surrendered to the idea of breaking up.

An hour later we hung up and I had my very first panic attack.  I heaved and my shoulders shook and I could barely breathe.  I was alone in my house and had no idea what to do or what was going to happen.  I sent a text message to a few people. I stood up and walked to the computer and just robotically changed my MySpace profile from taken and covered in pictures to James to single and out there looking.  I e-mailed my bestfriend and some other people.  Then I cried some more.  Texts and calls came in throughout the day.  My family got home and everyone embraced me.  Even my father spoke to me for the first time in five months.  Everyone I knew was genuinely concerned about me.  Some people made very valid points when we spoke, some said very nice things about the relationship and others couldn’t believe that I was not angry.

How could I be angry? Here was a guy who I had loved so much that I would have done anything for.  He has decided that he does not love me anymore and that he cannot be with me.  It was the truth.  And to be fair, after looking back at this relationship we weren’t as happy and as perfect as I made us out to be.  Any man who will never, in any circumstances, put his girlfriend first is not boyfriend or husband material.  There are times in everyone’s lives where that will happen.  Just not in his.  Some of our wonderful events or dates were only about 99.9998% wonderful when looking back.  Take for instance; Yllek’s wedding when I was very ill. Yes, he took care of me all night but his commitment to his team the next morning was still more important than waiting for my mother to pick me up and get me home.  Did you know that for months I had been thinking about that day and how wonderful it was in a way to convince myself that he loved me? Oh how wrong I was.

Also, there were so many things that I found fun in my life that he did not.  He wasn’t into roller coasters and so we could never go to my favorite place – Hershey Park.  Walking a five-block radius in New York City hurt his knees so we could never travel around Times Square in winter like I’d want.  He was not a fan of the beach and so we could never take a relaxing romantic journey there either.  Plus, I doubt any of those events would have happened without him being attached to his cellphone when one of the boys called.  I don’t mean to be rude but his friends were always more important to me. In the beginning he was nice and shut off the phone.  Towards the middle the phone would be on.  Then at the end, he’d take the calls.

Breaking up was for the best.  I know that now.  I know that I was making him to be someone he never was.  I was in love with him. I would have done anything to make him happy.  But when it really comes down to it, I don’t believe he would have done the same for me.

The hardest times for me came on Saturday when I’d reach out and grab my neck. I’d go for the eternity circle necklace he gave me on Christmas.  Unfortunately, I had taken it off after I hung up.  I knew it was the right thing to do and I also plan on returning it to him.  But it honestly makes me cry every time I reach for it.  Crying, though, pisses me off, too.  I know it’s the right decision for us to break up but yet I still cry? Why? I can’t understand it. I’ve also stopped eating (my stomach feels like a mess) and I haven’t slept.  THIS WAS THE RIGHT THING FOR US!  Ugh. I just don’t understand my reactions.  I am a strong woman who has been dumped before.  I move on and I get over it. Not much more to say about it.

What I will say is how ironic the whole thing is.  I was dumped in high school by my boyfriend of a year after going to the SteamTown Mall for the first time.  My boyfriend in college dumped me after I purchased for him the WTC signed poster he would die over for Christmas (oh and the Oakley’s that cost me a fortune).  A guy who had no time for me and only had time for his friends and golfing dumped me another time.  I was also dumped after spending some time in the hospital for female health issues.  Hmm, I just purchased a kick-ass Gymkata XL movie poster for James’ birthday.  I was heading to the SteamTown Mall for the second trip ever this weekend.  He had no time for me, friends only.  I have my next surgery appointment in less than a month for something that he could have possibly given me…(something I regret not telling him).  It’s just a sea full of ironies here.

But like I said, this was for the best. I was violently awoken from this fairy tale I thought I was living.  I was wrong. I was mistaken.  I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t love him. I just realize now that my love was very one-sided and skewed.

Rough, illogical days are ahead.  The dye for the magical poker cookies will arrive soon and in a few weeks so will the Gymkata poster.  The season finale of the Office is coming up, too.  Not to mention the fact that someone I’ve been speaking to almost everyday for the past year and a half is now gone from my life.  It’ll be tough but I will get through it with the help of my family and friends.  I just hope they will be patient with me.

I kept my word (on both accounts) and now I go every year.  Until recently (and due to scheduling conflicts) my visits used to be in January. Why not start off the year with a clean bill of health. Seemed like a smart plan.  This year between crazy periods and other crazy things in my life I did not get into see my doctor until the end of March.  Much later than I’d had like.  This was when the period decided to go missing for awhile and when I was super stressed with life, love and everything else.   

My doctor, he’s crazy.  He is a short bald old man.  He never really asks me alot of questions but he’s always nice to me.  He was so funny the first time I asked to go on the pill.  Condoms were my birth control for like, three years, when I had asked and he really saw no reason to put me on the Pill. But I wanted to try it and so he gave me a prescription. Sure I ended up hating it but what can you do? He just never recommends things to me or anything.  He basically let’s me do what I like.  

So I went in this March for my appointment and I told him about the missing period. He wasn’t worried and told me about how stress can make it go away for a long time (up to six months).  He checked me out and then gave me my new birth control prescription.  One that was going to solve some of my problems.  I was in and out of there in less than 15 minutes.  Painless. I was surprised when my phone rang about two weeks later.  It was the office telling me I had an abnormal pap smear and that I needed to come back for a colopscopy.  I had never heard of that and the woman on the phone fed me a lot of information.  I barely retained any of it and just scribbled down what I could.  Then she transferred me to the appointment line and I set it up.  I hung up my cell phone and went to my car where I called James and cried and cried.  I was basically going to the doctor so that he could paint my um….area, with vinegar.  Bad cells would show up in white and if there were some a biopsy would be taken and sent off to a lab to see what was wrong. 

Smart as I am, I got the very first open appointment and went in. It was a Friday and I was tired due to not sleeping and of course, worrying all night.  I knew that the big C, Cancer, was part of the equation here.  At least as a possibility.  So I was scared.  I sat in the waiting room amongst a big family who was there for a sonogram.  Soon I was called into the room and got to tell my favorite nurse in a “ha ha, told you so” sort of way that my period had showed up.  Next time she shouldn’t make such an “ohmigosh” face when I tell her it’s missing.  Anyway, instead of having to completely disrobe I got to only lose the bottoms. I was perched on a rising stirrup table and lifted into the air.  I really didn’t feel much of anything but I could still see the doctor when he furrowed his brow.  If anything, they are all very good at explaining things because he told me next that he was going to take the biopsy.  When he said it I felt tears welling up but I held them back.  I was preparing for pain but there was none and soon it was all over.  As I got dressed all I could think about was cancer and I started to cry.  I took a minute or two to breathe and then left. 

They told me I would hear in about a week so I tried to forget about Friday.  By Thursday night it was all I could think about.  On Friday I stared at my phone and wouldn’t leave my office for fear I’d miss the call.  Well, the call never came.  The weekend passed and soon Monday passed, too.  At the urging of my boyfriend I decided that Wednesday would be the day that I called for information.  Mid-e-mail to him, my phone rang on Wednesday morning. I knew it was the office.  Once again I had to prepare to listen and so I grabbed my yellow tablet and wrote down what I could. I have to go back.  I need to get cryosurgery.  Basically they will freeze all those bad cells off?  I’m also going to become a fountain for a few weeks until I heal.  Then I’ll have to go back every 2-3 months for pap smears until 3 in a row come back positively clear.  She said I do have the HP virus but that I have like two different strings of it.  It’s going to go away on it’s own and there really is no medication for it.  She also said that I was at Level 1.  Level 4 is cancer.  But she made sure to mention that I was closer to having a clean pap than to the cancer at Level 4.  After all the information she transferred me to schedule the appointment.  The earliest I could get in was for June 11th.  Yes, I have over a MONTH before this is taken care of.  I’m not very happy.  When I got off the phone I called James to let him know what was going on.  I didn’t cry but I was close.  He was concerned and pissed off that I had to wait until June for the next appointment.   

So now I sit and I wait. And it sits and waits inside of me. Nothing I enjoy thinking about.  I don’t want it to get worse because I have to wait! After each procedure I have been banned from having sex.  And although I can from now up until June I am not sure if I’ll even have the desire.  I feel dirty and tainted in a way.  I always prided myself about those appointments to prove that I was STD-free and in a sense  “clean.”  

On a brighter, slightly unrelated note. The Yasmin is helping. I only had two days of PMDD and it came only five days before my period.  In addition though to the usual symptoms I realized that this month I got the anxiety portion.  I was a mess. I mean it’s insane and I cannot imagine how it feels to be someone who gets regular panic attacks. I could not live with those.  I would go to bed during these moments and just feel so hopeless that I had no control over anything.  It was horrible. But it was also gone pretty much right after it started. Unlike before when it was drawn out. 

I’ll start out simple.

Christina Aguilera is married to Jordan Bratman.  She released a 2-dics CD called “Back to Basics” recently. I just got it. And I love the CD.  What I find most ironic is that she loves Jordan like I love you. 

Now granted, I didn’t make you a 2-disc CD where I wrote and sang all the songs but trust me.  The words that she sings about not thinking it was possible to find this kind of love ring true with me.  She really hits all the points about how she is interested in nobody but him, can’t imagine her life without him, etc. 

I can’t wait for her new single because I’d hope it would be one of the songs that says it right because currently on her MySpace player it’s all just those poppy singles.  “Ain’t No Other Man” is a great sentiment but there are more romantic thoughtful tracks on the CD.

And then there is Jenna Fischer.

She recently gave an interview to Women’s Health Magazine.  Here is the quote:

What about your husband — when did you realize hewas the one for you?
We were dating, and I was taking a bath. All of sudden I realized, “I’m never going to leave him. Never going to leave him. Huh.” So I knew either we’d get married, or he would break my heart.

Wow. I mean honestly, wow.  Doesn’t that say so much? It does for me.  I basically feel the same way, regardless of how many times I thought we should break or break up.  I never actually thought we should.  Usually I am doing what I think would be the “thing” to do. I’m never right.

I’m always the person who would let the other walk away.  I lived my life by that theory of if you let them go and they come back they are yours.  It was only in college when I realized that they never truly come back and never in the same way as originally. It is time for me to fight for what I want. To make it work until I can’t anymore. And then, God forbid if that happens, I would be hurt and broken.  I refuse to walk away because I do want to be with you as long as you’ll have me.

Scary, huh?

Ok, I realize that quote from Jenna contains the dreaded M-word. Let’s pretend it doesn’t. I think you understand that what I mean is that if it leads to something awesome such as that, then good. If for some reason we would run our course w/out that, then ok.  I guarantee that I am not picking out the china pattern or trying on dresses.  (That’s only after months and months of dieting which would begin the moment I get the ring).

Ok, so basically what am I saying? That I love you.  And even after the move all I do is think about you and how happy you make me. Corny, yes but honest to God truth.

I’m fine!  We’re fine!

Not even moving can kick us in the pants. Short phone calls at night (especially when unexpected) are the best. I love being happy and I love being happy with him. I also love having plans very far in advance like parties and my first trip down the apartment.

Oh please, we’re awesome.

March was an extremely stressful month, which sounds impossible since I was celebrating my birthday and my anniversary.  However, it was.  I had alot of stuff going on financially in my personal life and a lot of things going on in my professional life.  I was eating plenty and not sleeping nearly enough.

Towards the end of the month, my stress excuse was wearing thin.  I would stay up and think about how I had only had sex one time since my last period and how I was itchy from the detergent on the bedsheets and although, I managed to enjoy it it could not be the time when I got pregnant.  I’m into karma and fate, they are two of my nearest and dearest.  Well for that month, they were in high gear. I said outloud, if only to myself, that I would want to remember the sex that caused a pregnancy.  That was prior to my lateness.  Then the commercials on TV were covered with pregnant women and babies.  Celebrities were popping kids left and right.  The thought was everywhere I turned.

At night it consumed my dreams and my thoughts.

I even tried to will myself to de-stress and allow for the period to come.  I begged, I pleaded and I prayed with God (oh how Judy Blume I am).  Nothing happened.  I knew I had a gyno visit at the end of March and that if it (or symptoms of it) hadn’t shown up I could always ask to pee in a cup.

And then – on the day of James and my one year anniversary I got angry.  I got very angry and very depressed.  I cried for hours.  The PMDD had arrived! Hallelujiah!  Granted, it ruined the anniversary because I was an angry, weepy mess but still.  It meant that the period was on its way.  I was not pregnant.

On the day of my appointment I got a very shocked look from the nurse when I gave her the last date of menstruation.  But my good old Doc told me that stress can cause a period to disapear for more than just one month – three was the max!  After that conversation we discussed the PMDD.  Although we never really mentioned it by name.  He was going to give me some water pills to take when I feel angry, weepy and watery.  But then I mentioned that I want to return to the world of female contraceptive.  He then prescribed for me Yasmin.

I’m currently in my second week of pills (had to make it through one period, ya know) and I am in love with them.  It’s a lower dose hormone so it doesn’t make me feel insane.  And thankfully it takes care of PMDD symptoms towards the end of the month.  I (obviously) haven’t been there just yet so let’s hope it works. It’s not fun to tell my boyfriend not to talk to me for fear of saying something completely off-key.

I got in trouble after my appointment of course.  I didn’t mention to James about my lateness, at least not to the extent of 22 days, and he got mad.  I mean, I honestly understand where he is coming from and why he would be concerned about me having a baby but I’m taking the steps to prevent that.  However, before when it was a toss up between that and stress I was fully prepared to take care of the situation alone if I had to. I’m a big girl, if I’d get into a situation like that I’d face it.

Anyway, i’m not in that situation so all is well.  The pills are awesome and I have my phone set as an alarm so I remember to take them.  The best part of the process – the pills have killed my appetite! I really hope this helps motivate me to work out because I am tanking out.  Not cool!  I can’t have a hot, sexy boyfriend and then be some boring fat chick. No thank you!  I gotta try and keep up here. (To be fair he has never ever ever said anything about my weight, this all personal reflection)

I can’t wait to see what happens next week with the PMDD and the Yasmin. Everyone cross your fingers!

On Saturday he spent the day packing up his stuff.  I spent the day doing a whole lotta nothing.  My stomach was fine.  I was not emotional. It was just another Saturday.  Then at 8, when he called to tell me to come over, I started to cry. Alot.  I kept pushing the phone away so he wouldn’t hear me.  He thought I had dropped the call.  I cried and I cried while I got dressed to go meet him.  I cried and I cried as I brushed my teeth.  Then I cried and I cried as I drove through Coplay and Catasauqua.  But I stopped crying as I parked my car and I did not cry when he opened the door wearing the Dunder Mifflin t-shirt I bought him for Christmas.

We had a super night.  We almost went to the movies, but nothing good was playing.  So we went to Sheetz (after a few mis-turns) and came back and watched the Director’s Cut of Mallrats.  We hung out through SNL and the Apollo.  And soon it got late and he needed to go to sleep.  And yes, I cried and I cried.  I lasted for about 15 minutes.  Then I stopped again and headed out into the rain.  We said goodnight outside of my car, exchanged I love you’s and promised eachother that we would be ok.  Then I left to go home.

When I got home I did not cry.  I simply went to sleep.

My emotions are completely out of whack.  I feel like Carrie when she would just start tearing up everytime someone mentioned Mr. Big’s bypass surgery.  I’m a weirdo with a crying problem!

Conshohocken is not far from where I live.  At the most, it’s 45-50 minutes away.  It’s three exits on the Turnpike. It’s five minutes from IKEA.  It’s not like he can NEVER come up here to Catty.  It’s no big deal.

However, part of me thinks it is a big deal.  Part of me thinks that due to my big mouth (and wacky emotions) I made it into a big deal.

Two weekends ago, I was convinced that I wanted to take a break.  That was Friday night.  By Monday, when we discussed it, I was not interested in taking a break.  However, I had planted a seed and I regret that.  I have this problem, although hardly a real problem, but when I get started and I’m talking to him the truth comes out. 

But I think my main reason for bringing that all up was because I wanted to feel wanted.  Now I’m not talking about the scene from the Break-Up where she wants him to want to do the dishes.  I just wanted to wanted by him.  I wanted him to worry about me.  Of course with the stress of work and the move, there was little emotion left for me.  And yea, I’m jealous of that.  But I want to be wanted, damnit.

Two nights before he left to Alabama I got text messages.  He wanted me. He needed me.  I have saved them because they mean so much to me.  They are special.  That emotion was what I was hoping to get prior to the move.

As for today, it’s Day 2.  He’s off from work and unpacking at the apartment.  I didn’t get any e-mails from him because well, he’s not at work.  He said he’s going to call me after work today and I am honestly super excited for that.  I can’t wait to hear his voice.

When he was living 10-15 minutes away from me, we saw eachother two days out of the week.  We talked through e-mail and IM each day and life was grand.  That’s not really changing now that he has moved.  At most, I’ll see him two days (counting when I stay over) and we will continue to talk each day maybe now just e-mail and telephone.

So, why am I worried?  He’s the most trustworthy guy I’ve ever known.  His deepest darkest secret remains that he smokes cigarettes when not around me.  He’s never cheated on me.  So what is my issue?

I guess I just wish all this newness would go away and him and I could settle into our routine down there.  Of course, I plan to move out of my house, too but not as far as Conshohocken.  And then we can split the time between the two places, something I never ever considered before.  But yea, um. I really can’t wait to see the apartment.  To sleep in his bed and to make him breakfast in his kitchen.  I worry about boundaries and I don’t want to be a nuissance to him when I’m there or well, to his roommate.  I just want to fit in comfortably and not bother anyone.

I need a place to write. A place that is not MySpace.com.  A place that only a couple people know about.  A place that when stumbled upon will surprise a reader.

This is that place.