Padawan learner.

So today I had an epiphanic realization and decided that it is time to really start my New York life. I've been living my Tampa life just in a place that's a lot bigger and a lot colder. I've been pining for someone for far too long who has clearly moved on, watching another year slip gently past me while I sat watching the fascinating wall at a bar. I've been in New York for three months and have not achieved any of the things I desire. Some of which are as simple as buying a bike for myself and others of which are as lofty as starting my career, which I know takes patience. But the huge thing that occurred to me today was none of these things, although I believe it will set me on the path that may lead to many of them.

It was that I cling to my pain so completely and so exquisitely that it gives birth to a fear of not only letting it go, but feeling it again. The Catch-22 of this silly tendency that I have to harness that anguish and grief within myself is that if I let it go I would no longer be afraid of it coming back around. It wouldn't be so terrifying to get hurt by the opposite sex if I was able to move on from my setbacks more gracefully. However, fear of losing the familiarity of heartache can also be a giant step forward. On this day to begin all days I've decided that instead of jealously coveting the characters in Tom Robbins novels and the grandiose and story book love that they share I've decided to relinquish the stranglehold I've held on my failed relationships and stop longing for the things that I cannot have. Some of these, like my most recent very short lived dating situation, will be easier than others to pry my fingers away from. Obviously. The huge heartbreaks will be all the more difficult. If I've learned nothing else in my 29 years on this planet it is that there is much comfort in being sad. Cobain was right. But sometimes that comfort does nothing but hold you back and make you drink too much.

Sitting across from a friend today at a restaurant he posited a really interesting theory that made me stop in my tracks. He asked me, "What good is it doing you to sit here thinking about someone else when they're off not thinking, or probably caring, about you?" I realized what a huge waste of time it was. Sincerely. Something a Kindergartener figures out their third or fourth day of class and it took me this damn long. Pathetic. But that one simple thing unraveled so many other things for me. How much effort it is to be heartbroken. How much strain fighting with an ex is. How painful it is to lie in bed and think of them. And for what? Where does it get you but wasting countless hours you could have used to learn to play the guitar, take a day trip to Prospect Park, sew a quilt. You get the idea. I've wasted so much time I could probably have been accepted and finishing my first semester of law and/or graduate school. Still torn on that one, by the way. Thoughts?

Anyway, the point is that this time spent could have been utilized in such a better manner. Sure, I wrote a novel to cope with how much pain I was in but that was just sanity survival. Without that project I wouldn't have made it through that break up. Maybe that's what I have to do every time I go through a break-up. Just find a new project to immerse myself in that will in some way enrich my life and distract me from more unpleasant thoughts. Or even just an activity. Rather than hating being alone all the time I should begin to relish it and see it as an opportunity to grow more as a person because I do those things on my own terms and experienced them with myself. How many great documentaries, movies, books, TV shows, conversations, etc. have I missed because I was talking and/or thinking about an ex or a recent acquisition of a crack in my heart? Why do I feel compelled to let my overtly sensitive and emotional nature run my life? And why do I get so hung up on guys who are toolboxes anyway? Because for a few months/days/years we got along? So what. Let it go. Drop it. Fuck 'em. They were never worthy of someone like me because through all my flaws the one thing that most of my boyfriends cannot generally deny is that I was a good girlfriend who spoiled, pampered, and loved them. I do that because I care about them and want them to be happy. And I, just like most of us walking, talking bacteria that crawl around the face of this damaged world, deserve someone who will do that for me. The point of dating someone is that they make your life a little better. They complement you as a person. It's not always easy, but it shouldn't always be hard. When it is, it's time to shake your head sadly like they do in old movies, look down at the ground forlornly, and walk away.

I've recognized within myself that I am looking for someone to commit to and hand my trust to. And I need to be with someone who not only really wants it, but realizes what a true blessing it is to have someone believe in you enough to think you are worth it. There are many things that we take for granted in our self-involved, overly indulgent lives and having someone in the world who thinks your smile is worth more than Mona Lisa's is one of them. That is not something you throw out with your old McDonald's wrappers. It's something you frame.

So today was a good day. Tomorrow I am buying a bicycle or scanning the East River to see if there are any usable ones on the bottom. Whichever gets me something with two wheels and a basket.

It's insane how one comment can unravel your whole world. I'll tell you this, the person who said that is my Obi-Wan.