Eleven's Ink on... Letting Go and How Hard it Is To Do.

I often get asked how I feel about one topic or another. I am very opinionated and tend to be a bit more verbose than I should. The fact that I used verbose should be an indicator. The fact that I explained why is just proof beyond proof.


WTF Happened?!
So you just said goodbye to a friend, a lover, an important person in your life, and you're trying to assess the information. You re-read the texts, the FB messages; you grab at all the pieces that fell and try to assemble the puzzle. You think you have the answers, but every answer leads to another question. Did I end it? Did they end it? How did it come to this? You Google search "How to cope with endings" and "How to start anew" simultaneously until you realise that a Netflix Marathon is a hell of a better idea.

It's totally fine. I'm okay, I swear. KILL ME NOW!

You've had your first night's sleep. You probably slept like a baby cause your mind totally warped at the end of the season 3 finale of Dexter. You're most likely groggy and - OMG YOU JUST REMEMBER THAT YOUR RELATIONSHIP/FRIENDSHIP/KINSHIP ENDED. It's fine, you say. You calm yourself down and decide a shower is perfect to wash away the memories. Totally fine, right? Wrong, and cue the thought process: "how the fuck did this happen? Why aren't they texting me? Should I text them? No, no I'm totally fine. Don't cry, don't cry. Smile! Omg I'm crying. No I'm fine!" You basically want to place your own crazy self in an asylum for weeks on weeks to numb out the pain.

But everything was perfect!
You've gathered the puzzle pieces, but the end result does not resemble the picture on the box at all. You've accepted that it's your fault, their fault, your fault, their fault, and now you just want to plump on the couch with jalapeno pizza and forget it all. But you see their face in one of  the jalapeno slices. And the melted cheese reminds you of a steamy night you had with them. Oh and that fucking marinara sauce smells exactly like them!! And you finish by throwing the pizza on the wall and remembering just how magical everything was. The laughter, the excitement, the sharing of stories. What was so horrible about it?!?!?!


I'm the bomb.

You're done agonizing over whose to blame, why you're feeling crazy, and you've removed the rose-coloured glasses and guess what? It's time to take a selfie! You've lost weight, you went to the gym, you've been getting a shit-load of compliments and you're starting to feel awesomazing about yourself. The mission at this point is to cause as much accidents on the road as possible cause you just know people are swervin' and dodgin' over your looks.

BOOM. Explosion!

It's been like three days now and this whole process is amazing. You're glowing, you're flexing your muscles (guys), your pushing up that bra (girls), and you're moving on. Cause you look flawless, right? Wrong. All that excitement has finally fizzled and you're about to explode. This is the part where you throw everything of theirs in the trash, write obscene thoughts down in which you fantasize about murdering the bejesus out of them. You can also punch pillows and shit but for maximum effect, invest in a punching bag.

Should I or shouldn't I, that is the question.

You're passed out in pizza slices with wine and vodka stains all over the god damn floor. You're a mess. You've slept through the last four episodes of Dexter. You haven't showered in well over three days and it's starting to show. You've basically lost all sense of survival; get it together. In your mind, getting it together means accepting that it ended but HELLO, that's not what you want. You desperately search for your cellphone and think you found it when in reality, it's the TV remote. You panic. You NEED to reach them to let them know that it's all a mistake, everything will be okay and let's just forget this happen, k? K.

Yeah, no. Then you realise that this is all one-sided. "What if they don't want the same thing? What if they don't reply? What if they blocked your number? What if they laugh when they see how much you're still caught up?" You look at your phone, you've typed the message already (we're on the same page here, readers. I'm living this - you can't deny it.) and you're thumb is so close to the send button that your fingerprints can basically scratch the surface of your phone. And then you think: "But what if they feel the same? What If they are only waiting for me to write back? Maybe they're just shy or scared of what is going to happen." What to do, right?!


I'll just subtlety let you know I'm still alive. I'll be over here if you change your mind.
I cringe cause I did this. But hey, we're only human right! You've obviously decided NOT to contact the person cause "I'm such a strong individual." The phone is down, but not for long. Instead, you've switched on the Wi-Fi and liked their latest Instagram photo, you poked them on FB, and you shamelessly retweeted their last tweet about popcorn being the best snack out there. You want to tell them you miss them so much but are so afraid of the reaction that you go on this crazy tangent of just creeping the fuck out of them. Don't. Do. This. Go back to Netflix and dirty pizza slices.


Snap back to reality
It's been close to a week by now and you haven't lost all your hair. Your local mall is still up and running. The sky is still blue and Rob Ford is still mayor of Toronto. Clearly, the world didn't end. You decide it's time to shower and shut off Netflix (but omg what will happen in season 8 of Dexter?!?!). You're still talking about them but less frequently. You have occasional bursts of tears and you question absolutely everything. But you've slowly started realising the world outside again. You see people smiling back at you; children waving as you walk by them, head down and solemn. The sun is even peaking to say a short yet welcomed "hello!". You feel like things can get slowly get back to how it was before.


LOL, life's a bitch - it ain't this easy

And then a week and one day passes and you repeat the process. Oh you thought it was over? LOL, life doesn't work that way. If life was easy the saying wouldn't be "Life's a bitch", it would be "Life's a slut." But it ain't easy. There is no recipe for success, or shortcuts to happiness. You have to balance yourself out again and it can take time. So take it, enjoy it, live it. Cry it out, talk it out, laugh it out. The worst thing you can do is censor your emotions for whatever reason: "Because guys don't cry." "Because I want to show him I'm a lady." "Because I don't want them to see me weep." The relationship is over, so worry about yourself and what you have to do to move on and be happy. Life is short, love again.

But...But...But...

There is not but. There is just life and their is time. And both need you right now. It's tempting as fuck to drop everything and rekindle but what if it is worst? What if the person moved on already? What if you're already a memory? Sure it could also be: What if they miss me too? What if they are waiting for my call? But the key words here are: What if?

You don't know. You can't know. It's up to you to decide if you want to put yourself out there or not and risk getting hurt again. It can also be the complete opposite and you might find them responsive to your request. Take a chance if you want. Or don't if that is what you choose. It's a personal decision but hopefully you found laughter and a bit of truth in this blog post. It definitely made me feel better.

If you need to talk or feel alone and have no one to talk to, feel free to contact me. You can find me on facebook by clicking the link on the right or on twitter at @Elevensink or on instagram at @K_kiddo86. You can also leave a comment on here.


Candles are out,
Eleven's Ink.