Move on already!!

She basically stalked him, making sure no other girl dated him for long, if at all. She would buddy up to them and convince them he was weird or moving too fast or whatever she had to do to get them to not talk to them.

She tried it with me. It didn't work. Then she tried threatening me. She yelled (literally) at me during a church meeting. And when she found out we were getting married, told him within 5 years he'd realize how mean I was and divorce me. And she blocked us on Facebook.

Until she was getting married herself. Then she sent both of us friend requests.

Weird.

We both ignored the request.

And now she's following me on Pinterest.

Really?

Really?

MOVE ON ALREADY!!

I wish her well. But I also wish she'd just disappear.

Doppleganger Problems

We like watching the TV show "Parenthood." It has started a lot of conversations as we examine where their conversations went wrong, what they maybe should've said, what we'd say in that situation, and how we'd handle the problems that come up. But I've had one rather large problem with the show - one of the actors is a dead ringer for an ex of mine, and that ex isn't a happy story.

Seeing Jason Ritter, who thankfully plays a medium role rather than a large one, when he has facial hair, is a haunting ghost of my past.

To add to my cognitive dissonance, the character he plays is real stand-up respectable character who is thoughtful and mature. And while the ex had moments of that, overall, the experience was the opposite. So seeing that look with those qualities is just weird to me.

Anyone else have doppleganger problems like that?

Adoration

Speaking of things that hit you sideways, Campbell got married a few months ago.  We'd been good friends for a few years, and then early last year he kind of fell off the planet.  He was there for me when my engagement broke up, and I was there for him when the same thing happened to him.  I always felt safe with him, safe and appreciated, so it was hard when I realized we were never going to get married.  I still wonder why, but I got some clarity talking to his cousin this past spring.  The conversation started out awkwardly but eased up as we went along; she was concerned about how I was taking the news of his engagement and I felt I could trust her, so I told her it had been a little difficult.  She said that she and her husband had wondered why Campbell had never dated me; apparently, he talked about me all the time.  In her words, he adored me.  Why, then, didn't he choose me? 

 

My silent, agonizing question was answered as his cousin went on about his fiancee:  she needed to be rescued.  Campbell's fiancee had been married before, to an abusive and manipulative man, and she needed to be rescued from that trauma.  One thing I know for sure about Campbell is that he would NEVER hurt a woman.  He is incredibly protective--protective to the point of doing violence to another person.  When he found out more details about what my ex-fiance had done, he told me that he was willing to break my ex's nose if he started bothering me again.  Another time, we were talking and when another man walked past and gave me a leer that I didn't notice, Campbell put his arm around me and glared at the guy until he stopped looking at me.  I'm not the biggest fan of violence, but it is nice to feel protected when you're with someone.

 

Campbell needs to be the hero, and Mrs. Campbell needed a hero.  I'm glad she found such a good one.  I don't need anyone to rescue me from a bad situation anymore (although it would be nice if someone out there had an extra $200K to give us), but I really want to be adored by someone.  Adored enough that he wants to be with me and no one else.  Thanks to Campbell, at least I know I'm worthy of that kind of love, loyalty, and respect.

Too much

There have been some pretty big changes in my life recently.  I don't do well with change--I think I've discussed this before--even when the change is ultimately for my own good.  The last several weeks have been particularly difficult:  I unexpectedly got a new job, one of my dearest friends got married and moved away, another friend moved across the country, and a project I lovingly worked on for nearly four months ended.  All in the same week.  It was really rough on me, but I willed myself not to break down even though I cried at my friend's wedding and reception.
Today, I finally lost it.  I've been doing some training in another city for my new job, and, gas prices being what they are, I took the bus and train to get there.  For one reason and another, I missed the last express bus and sobbed in my car because of it. . . and everything else.  I haven't cried like that for a long time, but out it came and there I was, in my car in the station parking lot, crying for all the world to see.  I cried for a good 10 minutes, but managed to pull myself together, make peace with the idea of being nearly an hour late for work, and I got on another bus.

The same bus a distasteful, socially awkward, and (now) unattractive ex-boyfriend was on.  I couldn't avoid him and was angry and annoyed that he was there, sitting next to me, trying to talk about my life.  He annoys me SO MUCH I can't even describe it, but you know how you look at someone you used to date and wonder what in the world possessed you to find him attractive?  Sigh.  I was stuck with him for over an hour and it was a relief to leave him on a street corner and cross to my building, hoping to never see him again.  He makes me gag a little and I'm glad I stopped spending time with him at all.  I mostly did it to be nice, but it wasn't worth it.  I'm upset with myself that I spent so much time with him, hoping maybe he wouldn't annoy me so much, when I could have been with someone I actually like, like a friend or a sister.

It's a good thing my afternoon was much better than my morning, but I'll be really glad for the short commute to my actual office to start soon.  I don't want to think about any other weirdos I'll meet on the train...

Who does she think she is?

I wasn't planning on discussing Sk8er Boi here again, but that was before he announced on Facebook that he's in a relationship now. Not only did they go "Facebook public", but he actually posted about how it might upset people because he said he wasn't going to date anyone for awhile but he is and he cares about her.

I actually think he was talking to me.

And guess what? I was a little upset. Less than two months after he ended things with me because he wasn't ready to be in any relationship, he has an official girlfriend and they went Facebook public, which I never quite was and we never did.

I guess it was me after all.

I spent most of Friday really mad. At him. At myself, since I was mad that this still made me so mad. And, as always, at the situation. Why does she get to be his girlfriend when we could never make it that far? Why would he let an accomplished, intelligent me go in favor of whoever this girl thinks she is? Why am I judging someone I don't even know? (She came into his life during our relationship, but we never actually met.) When is it my turn?

RAWR.

I felt better on Saturday, and I've felt even better today. This development in his life changes nothing in mine. I have no reason to believe he was lying to me at any point, so I guess he really didn't think he was ready. They're a better match anyway, since we were so unlikely. He did care about me then. Eventually I'll get over the fact that he's sharing intimate things with someone new, and eventually I'll get to have some of my own intimate moments again. As I said then, it really did come down to bad timing and an unlikely match. One day I'll get those right.

In the meantime, I had a nice little chat, in person, with a new crush today. We met a few weeks ago, and even though we hadn't seen each other in almost two weeks he randomly added me on Facebook last night. He must have been thinking about me . . .

A major *facepalm*

Once upon a time, a boy and a girl met. He was a massive flirt, she was working on it. He asked her to prom, she accepted, and they had the first of many lovely evenings spent together.

Over the next eight years, this boy and this girl were somewhat on and off again. They went from friends to dating to back to friends to losing touch for over a year, maybe two, to friends to dating to friends, to, well you get the idea.

Then one day, having grown up a little, they decided to really give a relationship a shot. The boy was going to end things with the girl he was currently seeing; the girl was going to wait patiently. Or at least wait.

Once his previous relationship was over, things were starting to look up for this young couple. They'd known each other for quite some time by now, so they were able to skip all the "getting to know you" bits and go straight to the heart of the matter. Long, in depth conversations were had. They grew closer, and the girl suspected she might actually be falling in love.

The one unsuspecting Friday, the boy announced that the Last Girl was pregnant, and it was his, and the timing was such that it must have happened AFTER This Girl was told they had ended it.

This Girl was absolutely shocked. The boy was a returned missionary from their church and they'd spent time together in the temple, wherein they'd both made covenants to wait until marriage. So how could Last Girl be pregnant, especially after their breakup!?

This Girl did exactly what you might expect her to do. She expressed her extreme disappointment and proceeded to end their relationship, friendly or otherwise, and cut off all communication. Nearly a decade of friendship, at the very least, thrown out the window.

That was three years ago. Occasional attempts have been made by the boy to resume contact, but they've been either ignored or met with a negative response.

Until today. For some reason, This Girl is still on his list of people he emails interesting links to things. These come through once every several months, but today she asked him to remove her from this list, and thanked him.

His response?

"Done. You'll never hear from me again. -Boy"

Holy petulant response, Batman.

Look, sir, This Girl wishes you well, is no longer angry, and hopes you get the best in life, honestly, but wants no part of it, and you can hardly be surprised or hurt by it.

I, I mean, This Girl won't be responding and honestly hope that he grows up someday.

Broken

I've told many stories about past dates. There is one that I haven't talked about really at all I don't think, at least not directly. And there are many reasons. Maybe I should.

We were together for more than three years, off and on. There were good times. Good memories. But those were also the darkest times of my life.

I've heard stories of women in abusive relationships and I've wondered what must be going through their mind that they don't leave. Why would anyone stay in a situation like that?

And I always said it would never happen to me.

So what is going through their mind? They're thinking, "I can change him." They're thinking, "If he's with me at least he's not hurting someone else." They stay because they can't think of any way out. They start to think maybe they deserve what they are getting. They think they aren't worth anything else.

How do I know that? Because it happened to me. Because those were my thoughts.

I was too blind to see it coming. It took me a long time to see it even after it was over. People might describe me as having a strong character, strong testimony, strong confidence and esteem. But it still happened to me. I was never physically injured, which might be why I didn't recognize it. My scars aren't visible.

I would get to the breaking point, ready to walk away. More than once I said I regretted meeting him. And then he'd be sweet again. He'd apologize so sincerely. He'd tell me how much he needed me and how he never wanted to hurt me. The next time the breaking point was even further down.

It was a spiral down to hell.

I think by the end he had actually broken me. I was a shell of who I had been. I'd convinced myself it was what I deserved and I'd brought it upon myself.

I don't think it was something he consciously did. I imagine it would completely floor him if he realized it. He still sees us as being good friends and has been surprised at how far I've gone to cut him out of my life now. He's not the person he was back then, he's better. But I don't know him now. And I don't need the memory of who he was in my life. Forgiveness is not a free pass back into your life.

Now that I see what he did, I also see signs that his mother did it to him. I never knew where I stood with her, and it seemed he never did either. She's sweet and loving one day, and tearing you down the next. It's what he knew. He was also dealing with some mental addictions that only exacerbated the problem and contributed to his state of mind and how he viewed women. None of that excuses it. But sometimes an explanation helps.

Pulling myself out of that hole was hard. It left me wary. I'm afraid of watching other people end up there and that they won't see the warning signs that I can see now. I'm afraid they won't listen to the warnings of others because I didn't.

Forgiving him was hard and went in jumps and spurts. Forgiving myself was even harder. Both were possible. The atonement is just that amazing. Christ healed my broken heart.

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised,
Luke 4:18

At least once

It seems like there is a list of dating experiences that everyone has to go through at least once. Some good, some bad, and all at least leave you with a story.

With regards to dating that list could include:

• a bad blind date
• a good blind date
• a date who is more interested in you than you are in him
• a date who's less interested in you than you are in him
• a rebound
• a date who dumps you
• a date you dump
• and a date that you really should've listened to what everyone was saying and left alone

And yup, I can cross all of those off my list, at least once.

With regards to that last one, I don't even think a bad-ex tracking system would work.



Because it seems like even if we did get a warning that specific, we wouldn't listen. I've had guys that I got plenty of warning about, either from friends or even my own gut. Luckily I did manage to listen before too long. But if they ever do start up that tracking system, let me know, I have a few to add.

What other types of "dates" would you add to the list? The Art of Manliness had a list a while back of The Taxonomy of Lousy Male Friends. We could probably add those guys to the list as well. And I dated a few of them too.

Delete

There are some things I like to be able to feel with my hands. I like to read paper books. I like to hand write my journal. It seems more real to me that way. There's something about holding it in your hand and knowing that one click of a mouse or a push of a button won't make it all go away.

However, sometimes, making all things go away that easy is rather nice.

It was about the time I was getting ready to serve a mission that I was going through my stuff from high school. I found several things associated with the guy I'd had a crush on back then. He wasn't good for me then. And he hadn't really gotten any better, although I hadn't really seen him since high school. I remember throwing that stuff away with a fulfilling finality to that part of my life.

After my mission I found the stuff from the guy I'd dated my freshman year of college. He didn't take it too well when I dumped him just before Christmas (I should tell that story some time). But it was satisfying to finally throw that stuff away too.

As I've been unpacking and arranging stuff lately (I unpack very slowly, it's not a fun thing to do), I've occasionally come across a note or card from a specific ex. Interestingly, I've mentioned him several times on this blog, but never given him a name. And I don't think I ever will. We had our good moments. That's where a lot, but not all, of the notes come from. But the bad moments have haunted me. So as I've been finding things associated with him in different places, it's been with a wonderful bit of finality to throw them away.

This week I was cleaning up the files on my computer and I found some documents, messages, and photos that were related to this guy. I paused for just a moment before doing what I should've done a long time ago.

I pushed delete.

And it felt so good.

It felt good to be at the point in my life where I could let it all go. It's gone. I don't need it back. I don't need it to remind me. I don't need those ties to the past to hold me there. I'm living in the now and I'm living for the future. The past happened. There are days when I wish it wouldn't have. But it did. But that doesn't mean I have to keep it. I can push delete. It feels good to unclutter my emotions and memories like that. A little cleaning can be a good thing.

Delete.

If only it were this easy (click to enlarge):

[Image has disappeared, but, basically, a guy propositions a girl at a bar and she looks up his face on a date review app with her phone and he gets half a star and terrible reviews, so she leaves.]

But then again, I'm glad it's not. I wonder what kind of reviews would be left for me? I know I'm not always the kindest person who says the best of all the guys I've dated, so I suppose it's only fair that some of them may not have the best things to say about me. Sadly, I've even heard some of the more unfortunate things being said about me after the fact, and I can even understand why that person thought that about me. In reviewing my past and sharing the ups and downs of my relationships, I do try to remember that while things may have ended badly or they didn't always treat me the way I may have deserved, or I them, that it's in the past. We've both grown up since then (hopefully), and none of us are truly evil (at least from my relationship history).

What about you? Would you prefer a Yelp! for those you date?

A confession:

My ex-fiance is gay.



He came out a couple of years after he dumped me.


No, I'm not happy for him. I'm not supportive. I don't want to talk to him ever again. Perhaps if our engagement had ended on a mutual decision, things would be different, but he left me in unexpected darkness and pain and confusion because he offered no real explanation for breaking off our engagement. As far as I knew then, it had nothing to do with his sexuality. As far as I knew then, he was straight, so don't go blaming me in the comments for not knowing or for trying to convince him he was straight or for trying to fix him. I'm not that girl and I'm not stupid. He started it--he pursued me, he asked me to marry him, and he decided to not marry me.

I think I've forgiven him for what his decision did to me, but that does not mean I'm going to befriend him.

Going through that breakup and the subsequent aftermath, when things just got worse instead of better like they all say they will, was one of the most horrific, self-doubting, exhausting, and difficult things I've ever had to do. At least this time it only took me 6 months to get to feeling like myself again as opposed to another betrayal years earlier--that one took 2 years and was worse overall.

Still, having made that commitment and those covenants (like he had) and being ready for the future and all that it would bring, and then to have it pulled out from underneath me in a cruel and deceitful way was a huge blow to everything I thought I wanted. It's been difficult and sad knowing what we could have had and what he threw away.


In some ways, it's gotten easier. I've had the assurance that I WILL marry in this life, and it will be to a man who is as committed to the gospel as I am, and I'm very glad I didn't get married the first time (although that, in a way, is also very sad). I'm happy in so many ways. I've come back to myself and grown as a person. I'm so strongly rooted in my faith that nothing can shake me. On the other hand, it's gotten harder; knowing what he's given up, knowing the kind of life he's leading, knowing how his family must feel about this. Knowing that we still live within 30 miles of each other and I'll have to talk to him someday. Not easy in the least.


This is what I live with every day. I recognize that pain is pain, and that everyone has it. Mine isn't necessarily bigger than anyone else's, nor is it necessarily smaller. It's not as painful as it was, but it still makes me incredibly sad sometimes. I don't really wish things were different, but I sometimes wish....you know what? I don't. I'm glad I went through this if only to realize exactly how strong I am and what I'm made of deep down. Maybe that's why I'm not in agony all the time like I could be. I know my Heavenly Father loves me. I know my Savior loves me. I know that I'm a better, kinder, gentler, stronger person for having done this.


And I hope that I WILL marry someone who recognizes and values that, because I recognize and value those traits in others, and, quite honestly, I'm worth more than someone who can't love me. These things I will not compromise just to have children.

My Dope Box

Relationships are a lot like recreational drugs. They both make you feel good, make you forget the outside world, and help you not be alone during the bad times.

Consequently, coming off them is also very similar.

For example, it's a week, a month, or even a year since your breakup. You think of something that you know your ex would appreciate and you pick up the phone to call them, only to remember that you can't. Because you broke up, and, for whatever reason, are not on speaking terms.

It sucks.

Sometimes the craving to call them is so bad, you have to call someone else, anyone else, just to get it out of your system.

Just like drug withdrawals. Instead, they are person withdrawals. Your brain is still programmed to want to share your life with that person, and it's hard to resist doing so.

Fortunately, just like drug withdrawals, it gets easier over time. You find comfort in other things and people, hopefully healthier outlets, and the desire to call that ex dulls, and the pain of not being about to do so eases. Every once in a while, you might still get a craving, but they pass quickly. Of course, it's hard to remember in the heat of a particularly poignant craving, but it really does get better.

Another similarity is the dope box. For a recovering drug addict, their dope box might include a marijuana pipe, a joint roller, a syringe, or whatever paraphernalia their particular addiction required.

My dope box is a little cedar box that contains a year's worth of love notes, and probably should contain a certain pair of earrings. Of all the things I've collected from boyfriends past, these are the things that are just too personal to actually use or display. I do have some gifts for boyfriends past that I have out or use, like some jewelry, a book, a glass sculpture, and they often do remind me of the ones who gave them to me, but not like the notes or that pair of earrings do.

And I just can't bring myself to get rid of it.

Like a successfully recovering addict, I have no intention of doing anything with the items in my dope box. Every once in awhile, I might see it and read an old note or two, but I mostly keep it tucked away, with a mental note of sentimental value and a reminder of how far I've come since then.

I miss the writer of those notes sometimes, but I don't crave him anymore. In fact, since the writer leaving on a mission was the reason we broke up, I was prepared in advance for the relationship's end, which could be likened to a nicotine patch or a step down program, if I were to keep making the metaphors.

Incidentally (meaning I was planning this post before I found out), the ex I was most addicted to just got engaged, and I'm feeling rather unsettled about it. I don't want him back and I don't usually crave him specifically anymore, but it's still weird. It also means that all of my ex-boyfriends are engaged or married, leaving no one in the same single predicament I'm in. That probably deserves a post on its own. Also, sadly, the version of this ex that I know wasn't ready for a temple wedding, and hearing that he's getting married in the temple, I don't really believe he's ready, even though enough time has past that he could be.

You can, honestly, be addicted to anything - food, drugs, sex - anything that stimulates the pleasure center of your brain. As always, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem.

Riding in cars with boys

Strong, independent people always attract people who want to be like them. This was exemplified for me during college. Somehow, two of the four boys I seriously dated, and one who seriously tried, did not have cars. At all. One of the four didn't have his own car the whole time, but he was able to use a family car when he really needed one.

The two car-less boyfriends, and the one who wanted to be, are still, even now, a puzzlement to me. Public transportation in The Homeland is kind of a joke. Buses only travel the most main of main roads, and the light rail system is a long way from becoming truly useful. After visiting or living in places with a real, functional public transportation system, I won't be satisfied by that of The Homeland for years to come.

What is there is fine, if you want to go to any one of the local college campuses or somewhere along the most prominent of the local streets. Anywhere else? It will take some time.

So, as much as I hate to admit it, to not have regular access to a car in The Homeland is kind of a social death sentence. Especially if you're a boy who wants to date. Unlike other major metropolitan areas, the percentage of people in The Homeland who rely on public transportation is so small that no one is used to the extra time and effort it takes.

Of course, the remedy is to be cute and charming enough to make the girl want to do all the driving. And it worked for these guys. Not so much for that other one, though that wasn't the actual reason I wasn't interested in.

It doesn't mean it never got old. Doorstep scenes are nicer when they're on your own doorstep. You don't get to wonder if the guy is going to take your hand while he's driving, because you're the one driving and the one who has to decide if you can do without one of your hands for a time. And, of course, there is all that driving between their place and yours. Of course, it wasn't really a big deal that we spent all our "hanging out" time at their places, because I lived with my parents at the time.

Even though I now live somewhere with excellent public transportation, I would still prefer to date someone with a car. I wouldn't mind splitting the driving responsibilities, and I certainly wouldn't mind having the option. It also shows a certain amount of financial responsibility by being able to own and maintain a car, which is attractive, even if the car is a beater - I don't require the extra flash of something new and sporty.

The one of the four who did have his own car? I took it from him and drove it for the remainder of college, and the entirety of my "ownership" of it was after we broke up. Of course, it was because he was deployed to the Middle East and we remained good enough friends that he trusted me with it.

A guy not having a car isn't a dealbreaker (though his reasons for not having one might be - e.g. financial irresponsibility), but at this point in my life and dating career, it would be a cause for pause.

What a bunch of whiners

For the last two days, I have been surrounded by whiners. It started yesterday morning by discovering that some people in my building at work were whining to another person in my building about something I was doing. This thing is only minor and inconsequential, but they still felt like they need to whine, and it bothered both me and the middle man (who at least did the right thing in telling me about it) that they didn't just speak directly to me.

Last evening, my brother sent me a video of our dog whining. He's adorable, but he's whiny.

Today, my employees were whining about their task. I know it's boring, but it needs to be done. Whining won't make it go any faster. It's worse that the closer in proximity these employees get, the more they whine. They seem to feed off each other.

It gets really old.

The kicker is JT. We hadn't seen much of each other this summer, for various reasons, but finally got together on Monday.

And, as part of me suspected, it turns out he's back with his girlfriend. I can't say that I'm thrilled, because I still have feelings for him and because I know they've had a rocky relationship and how hard this last breakup was on him.

It also means that I'm the placeholder. Both times they were completely OFF, he and I kissed (which took me by complete surprise, both times). And then they got back together again. I feel all sorts of special now, thanks.

So, I've been dealing with all the related emotions this week, but still just trying to be his friend. We started that way, and I still value that relationship.

That doesn't mean I'm ready to hear about his girl problems.

On Monday, he'd asked if I wanted to go see a particular movie and added that his girl didn't want to see it, which is why he was seeking alternative company. We were discussing that movie, and another she didn't want to see, and he could have just mentioned the girl and been done with it. Instead, he went off about how he'll go to the ballet even when he's hopped up on cold medicine but she won't see a zombie movie.

Not ready, JT. I don't want to hear about this yet. Additionally, if things are going so well this time around, it seems a little fishy that you're already complaining about her.

I want everyone to stop whining. Just until Monday.

And next time JT and his girl break up, I'm not going to let him kiss me. It's just too messed up, and I can't handle messed up relationships anymore.

Reason

Someone just wrote a guest blog that I really enjoyed. I like reading about the experiences of other women being single in this world. I like feeling like I belong, that someone else understands what it's like to be single (and happy!) in a family-oriented church. I like reading about brave people who have gone through some bad times and come out better on the other end. I'm glad people blog about it all.

I know I could contribute to other blogs. I've been through some stuff. I've had some experiences. I've grown a lot. I've changed into a better person.

But I don't want to talk about it anymore. I talked about my broken engagement and some of the circumstances around that over the weekend. It exhausts me to talk about it because it brings back so much of the emotion and trauma of the whole thing. Just when I think I'm done and finally ready to stop being sad or angry about it, it comes back. It's so much better than it used to be--I guess I'm at 90%--but that last 10% comes roaring into my brain sometimes and I hate it. I'm tired of talking about it because I'm tired of it still bothering me, but I talk about it because it still bothers me and then I get tired. It's kind of a vicious cycle, isn't it?

Would someone else benefit from my experience? Probably. I think other people already have, which might be one of the reasons I went through it. I know it's therapeutic to talk and get stuff out of my system, but I feel like I've been doing it too long and it just needs to stop so I don't bother other people. And, honestly, there is a lot I can't say because I want to keep the trust he placed in me, even if he may not have done the same thing. I don't know. I haven't talked to him in almost three years and have no desire to start any time soon.

Maybe it's just been a rough month, but it really hasn't. It's been a good month, work weirdness aside, so why am I having angst about this again? All part of the process, right? I have a good life, I have good friends, I have a GREAT family, I have a lot going for me, and things are going really well. I think that's pretty cool, and I should focus on those things instead of someone else's bad decisions.

Something's in the Air...

I found out recently that another of my dear friends is getting married. When I found out he was dating his now-fiancee, I was so happy for him. He seemed so settled and at peace with himself and his life, and while she's several years younger than him, they really are perfect together. I attended the (beautiful and inspiring) wedding of a (beautiful and inspiring) mutual friend a couple of weeks ago and had a chance to talk to him--he glows now. It's amazing and beautiful and I am very very happy for them!

I have to confess, however, that I feel a little left out at the same time. This year will have seen four of my closest friends becoming engaged/married, and one of those four break up in some of the same circumstances of my own broken engagement. It's funny how you can hurt for one person so much at the same time you want to shout from the rooftops with another person, isn't it? It's funny how you can be so happy for your loved ones and a little sad for yourself at the same time, isn't it? It's not necessarily that I feel SORRY for myself (I do have a good life with a lot of things going for me), but my heart hurts a little that I don't have what they have. Gina, the friend going through the bad breakup, turned to me at the wedding (we were at the same table as Billy at the luncheon) and said, looking at the very happy couple, "they really love each other, don't they?" I replied "yes, honey, they do. That's what you want and that's what you deserve!" She said "I do deserve it, don't I?" and my heart broke for her. Right now, she doesn't know what it's like to be loved for exactly who she is. She thought he did at the beginning, but then he tried to change her because he was threatened by her intelligence and beauty and talent. No one should do that. No one should insist on changing someone else's God-given nature just because he or she is insecure. No one should try to force someone to subdue his or her spirit--that's called "unrighteous dominion" and, as far as I'm concerned, is as bad a sin (if not worse) than adultery or physical abuse.

I suppose I'm so affected by Gina's current situation because it's so devastatingly familiar (I'm not going to go into that now) and I'm so affected by Billy's situation because it is the Dearest Wish of My Heart to love and be loved like that. It's a strange mix of emotions--happy that my friends are so happy, sad that they're sad, angry that people think they can treat others so badly, and left out because I want a wedding and a marriage too! It doesn't really help that, over the last year especially, I've felt something coming and I tend to impatience. I have to remember that the Lord has all this in His hands and that I just need to do the best I can to live a good and productive life and help others.

I'm so very happy for Billy and Cyd (and Betty and James), so happy at the prospect for me, but so sad for Gina and myself that we don't have the thing we want most. I hope, when we finally have it, we never take it (or him) for granted, but will cherish and honor the gift we've been given. Those two wonderful couples give me hope that all promises will be fulfilled and that my Heavenly Father hasn't forgotten or given up on me.

The tricky part is remembering it all on the bad days...

A favorite date

I get angsty here a lot. You've probably noticed that. That may be my role here though. Roxie is our girl in a healthy relationship with its normal ups and downs. Trixie doesn't really date much, which is a tragedy because she's phenomenal. And then I date around, get attention here and there, go on dates by definition (and every so often an actual date), and it never goes anywhere.

So of course I'm angsty.

Time for a change of pace. This is the story of one of my favorite dates.

To set the stage: I had just finished my freshman year at college. My boyfriend and I had been together for almost a year and were very much in love, but he was preparing to leave for an LDS mission for two years. All of our dates at this point were special and important, because we knew things were going to change forever very soon. We'd known each other for five years by this time, since we'd been in the same home ward since my family had moved in when I was 14. Another man in our ward owned a company that just about every young man in our ward worked for him at some point as a teenager. My boyfriend and his best friends were no exception.

These boys, all of their own accord, decided to host a semi-formal dance in their boss' warehouse. Each of them invited their dates, then spent the next couple of weeks cleaning the warehouse, decorating, putting together a mix CD or two (this was pre-iPod after all), and planning the whole thing. I couldn't wait.

The evening arrived. I wore a dress his mother had helped my mother make back when I was 16 for Junior Prom, which he had actually asked me to. Sadly, he asked me two hours later than the Sophomore I actually went with. He had seen the dress, but I'd never worn it for him. He wore a very sharp suit.

The boys picked up their dates and we went back to someone's parents' house for pictures. (I wonder where those are.) Then, we went out for a delicious dinner at a Mexican restaurant. There was a good group dynamic and we were all getting along very well.

Then it was time for our dance. Four boys in their late teens had done the decorating and it was perfect. The music they'd put together was lovely with a great mix of everything. We had some group numbers and switched partners for slow songs once in a while. They even brought a couple of board games when we were all ready for a break. It really was wonderful.

My least favorite moment: We had chaperones at the dance. I thought this was silly, but most of our group, in fact everyone but my boyfriend and I, had just graduated high school and the chaperones were a couple of their parents. So it made sense. Still, it annoyed me since I'd just been away from home for a year and hadn't had a chaperone it at least that long, plus they were far too close to

My absolute favorite moment: Part of the decorations were that the boys had splatter painted the floor. Except for one spot. My boyfriend had painted a giant pink heart, big enough for the two of us to stand in with room to spare. Inside the heart were the words "Boyfriend + Jinxie", and there was probably an arrow through it. Cliche? Sure, but have you seen such a heart painted on a floor before? I didn't think so. When our song came on, he led me to our spot, and we danced, cheek to cheek. It's possible he even sang the words in my ear, and I know he told me he loved me. We most certainly kissed at the end of the song. Soon enough, I truly did not care that anyone else was in the room. It. Was. Perfect.

The whole night was just magical. It was perfect for us and our relationship, both fun and romantic. That relationship was the first real relationship either of us had been in, and he was just a natural at knowing how to treat me right. We wrote each other for his entire mission (though I had dated others while he was away), and we rekindled almost immediately upon his return home. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be, and he's since married a very lucky woman. I'm happy for them, even though he is the one who got away. With dates like this, how could he not be?

Huh

I had a post all planned out for May 29^th. I think I even asked Roxie way back in February if it was weird that I was planning a post so far in advance. I debated writing it in advance and just setting it to automatically post itself, but I decided to wait until that day. I figured I would be able to best describe my feelings about the day on the day itself.

The day came and went without me even thinking about it.

Until today.

And I’m actually perfectly okay with that and even consider it a victory for me.

Why?

May 29, 2005, was, arguably, one of the worst days of my life. It was the day the man I thought I was going to marry told me he didn’t think we should. I don’t remember the exact conversation, except that he did most of the talking. I was too much in shock. Granted, things between us had been tense for the two or three weeks leading up to that night, but I didn’t think he was going to end it completely.

But he did.

And I haven’t had a boyfriend since. Four years without anything lasting more than a few weeks. It’s sometimes a little hard to swallow, but I remind me that someone else loved me once. Someone else will again.

As for the day, I approached it with trepidation in 2006. In 2007, I remembered the anniversary on that day, possibly with a small dose of sadness. 2008 – I probably remembered it on or around that day, but only with a twinge of sadness.

This year? I knew the day was coming up, but it came and went without nary a thought for more than eight days.

Next year, I’m hoping for at least two weeks.

Secrets

If I ever send anything into Post Secret, it will be this:

You don't know this, and it might not even matter to you, but I was happier during the five minutes you spontaneously held my hand than I was on a good day with my ex-fiance.

Funny how, upon looking back, I can see how unhappy I was. It's hard to explain, because I was happy: happy that I'd found someone who loved me back, happy to be starting a new life with someone I loved, happy at the prospect of becoming part of his amazing family, happy to have my future right there beside me, filling in that empty spot I'd felt so painfully just a few months before we started dating. At the same time, however, I wasn't happy. My aunt told me that she'd never seen me so stressed, that the reports from my mother made her worry for me. (And she should know, having been in an emotionally abusive and manipulative marriage during her 20s.) It startled me to hear her say it out loud in my car while I was giving her a ride back to her house from a family gathering several months ago. I wasn't happy and I didn't really know it until someone who cared deeply for me finally told me.

Then, a few months ago, someone I'm going to call Campbell and I ended up at the same guest lecture and, while walking back to my office, he reached down and just held my hand. It was only for five or ten minutes, but in that short amount of time I realized very forcefully how happy I was just being with him. That realization came in stark contrast to how unsure I often felt with The Ex even on our best days. There was a tiny part of my brain that never trusted him and was sometimes scared of him, but with Campbell, it was completely different. I felt purely happy and apparently it showed, because we ran into a coworker of mine and later this coworker asked me how long Campbell and I had been dating and commented on how happy and peaceful I looked. It's hard not to read anything into that, even months later.

I visited Campbell at work the other night, on my way home from another event, and felt the same way. No matter what was happening, I felt comfortable and save with him. I didn't even get self-conscious about eating in front of him (he waits tables at one of my favorite restaurants and I was hungry that night) or about saying something stupid.

I can't say what's going to happen, but I can say that I am happy when I am with him, confident in myself whether or not I'm dressed up and wearing makeup, and that being with Campbell somehow fills a part of my soul. Maybe someday I'll tell him.

Maybe not. A wise Buddhist friend of mine said "do what you feel good about, and let the rest take care of itself. Don't worry--things work out." I have faith that no matter what, things will work out and I'll be happy. Right now, I want to be happy with him but I'm peaceful about the situation and I'm not worried. Much. :)