Every city I frequent or once frequented holds memories of those I shared those times with. Arlington will always remind me of my best friend: our morning trips to Chick Fil A for a breakfast date before I dropped her off at work and went back to bumming it in her unbelievably comfy bed (still the best bed I've ever slept in), being introduced to new faces as she blends her worlds over endless drinks in Clarendon, and brief stops to her house before jetting back to NYC. Chick Fil A dates at Ballston Mall are still a tradition of ours. Norfolk will always remind me of my college boyfriend and our nights filled with debauchery and morning-afters filled with planning beach trips. Driving through Maryland reminds me of the times a former friend and I shared as I stopped through on my way to DC. The list of cities and memories is endless, and even when friendships and relationships terminate, as much as we'd like to, you can't erase fact, experience, history.
For months, though, DC has been a tricky one. Though my college boyfriend and I frequented DC, dating a DC native brings about a gamut of experiences that only a native can provide. And having other friends that live in the area, it was a little more difficult to enjoy nights out as we inconveniently passed restaurants and venues he and I once frequented. I always wondered when or if I'd ever be able to create new memories in a city that wreaked of him. I seriously doubted that it'd ever happen. This weekend, however, I felt something monumental.
As I ride up I-95 back to NYC, I'm overwhelmed with joy and more inspired than I've ever been. This morning, my friends and I stood at the national mall and watched President Obama take oath for his 2nd term in office. I listened to him deliver a speech so moving that he continues to hold his ranking as one of the greatest orators I've ever had the pleasure of hearing. Tears welled in my eyes as I witnessed dignitaries like Joe Biden, Bill Clinton, and the Obamas gaze in amazement while my church's choir performed. I've never been prouder to attend Brooklyn Tabernacle. While standing there, though, I thought about the last time I was on the national mall, and while I'll always remember the late night stroll with my ex, Obama's inauguration leaves a gigantic footprint in my memory bank. I've never felt such pride in my race, my country, and in my decision to witness it up close instead of in the comfort of my own home. Now, when I think of DC, I'll remember the day I stood and witnessed history. I'll remember the day I got inspired to go back to NYC and take on my new leadership role with utmost confidence in my abilities, just as President Obama did and will continue to do for the next four years.
I've slowly learned to not become bitter when memories flood my mind of times I shared with people who are no longer in my life. No longer do I only appreciate memories made with my closest friends as I visit their cities. Whether the relationship currently exists or not, everything we did, every place we went, every joke we told, and every memory made was exactly what I wanted at that point in time, and I can't go through life wishing it would magically disappear from my mind's register. Enjoy the memory for what it is or was at that time, and move on. And if you don't want to remember it, don't grow bitter. Simply rewrite history. That's exactly what I did.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
A New Direction.
I debated ending this blog. "Long-Distance Lovers" turned me into something like a masochist, forcing me to dig into the darkest depths of my soul and the most delicate part of my heart in order to recount instances of heartbreak that would make for a great post. And while I'm always pleased with the finished product, my spirits get low, at least for the first few hours after posting. And it was a lot easier when I was actually hurting. I didn't have to search for those gut-wrenching emotions, because they were always present, I was always needing to vent, and always feeling them.
But not anymore. Now, I'm happy, and have been for a while.
2 weeks ago, I had a revelation.
After my recent ex and I broke up, I'd constantly talk to family and friends about our demise, searching for answers and writing open letters that I never actually planned to deliver to him. It was cathartic--spilling every emotion and thought onto the paper. And then I started this blog. Even though I was getting over how things ended, I'd constantly dwell on aspects of our relationship, and that would pull me 5 steps back after I prided myself in taking 10 steps forward. I'd look at his Facebook page. When I was bored, I'd wander over to his Twitter. I'd sit and think about everything I'd say if I ever saw him again. And while I suddenly woke up surprised that this "time" I heard so much about actually did heal my wounds, seeing pictures of him and status updates really vexed my spirit. I went from heartbreak to anger, which did me no good; the opposite of love isn't hate, but rather indifference. I hadn't reached the state of indifference. A close male friend of mine and a mentor of sorts once told me, "Fuck him. Pretend he died. Don't check his social networks. There's nothing there for you anymore," but it wasn't always that easy. I was used to seeing what he was up to, and it was hard to quit cold turkey. I was enjoying being a masochist; there would NEVER be anything on his social networks that would make me happy, but anything could trigger my rage. The mere sight of his face could trigger it. But here I was, curing my boredom with emotional cutting. I had to stop, but how?
When I went home for Christmas, I was greeted with a beautiful new car that was everything I didn't even know I wanted. I didn't ask for a new car. To be honest, when my parents asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said "just new contact lenses and gym clothes. Oh, and a job." Not only did I get contact lenses and gym clothes, but I chauffeured my brother and his new wife around in my new car. My entire family sat around the table and talked about life, love, and careers, and I was so full of love. I had every reason to be happy. I was in a state of sheer bliss, and refused to let emotional cutting ruin my holiday. It had been a while since I looked at his page, and not coincidentally, I couldn't remember the last time I was in a funk. There was no way I was checking up on any of his social networks. There was nothing for me there. I got rid of every email, letter...anything I had on my hard drive, my room, or my car that reminded me of a painful past, determined to go into the New Year not holding onto the things that should be left in 2012.
The day after Christmas, I jetted back to NYC in a horrible storm to make it for another interview at Girl Scouts of the USA. I was confident in my abilities, but refused to let the fact that it was my 3rd interview render me confident and complacent. I prepared, studied my resume, and mapped out social media strategies in case they wanted to see what I can do for the company. I nailed my interview, and found out New Year's Eve that I got the job. Unreal. My dream company, and I'm working for it.
Then it hit me.
God is making SO many things happen for me because I simply sat back and let Him take control over my life. I learned to trust him completely. No matter what may or may not happen the way I want it to, I know God has a better plan for me, and because I put this trust in Him, He's giving me unspeakable joy and peace that surpasses all understanding. Why would I throw all of that away by emotional cutting when I'm bored? It would be a slap in God's face to continue thinking about/writing about/and keeping tabs on the past when He's making the present an absolute dream. So, I won't. And for weeks, I haven't. I have no desire to see what exes are doing. I have no desire to speak to those who have hurt me. I wish them well, and I pray for them (I hate doing it, but my mama taught me to do that.), but I'm ready to leave them in the past and never speak of them again. It feels good, this "new beginnings" thing.
But not anymore. Now, I'm happy, and have been for a while.
2 weeks ago, I had a revelation.
After my recent ex and I broke up, I'd constantly talk to family and friends about our demise, searching for answers and writing open letters that I never actually planned to deliver to him. It was cathartic--spilling every emotion and thought onto the paper. And then I started this blog. Even though I was getting over how things ended, I'd constantly dwell on aspects of our relationship, and that would pull me 5 steps back after I prided myself in taking 10 steps forward. I'd look at his Facebook page. When I was bored, I'd wander over to his Twitter. I'd sit and think about everything I'd say if I ever saw him again. And while I suddenly woke up surprised that this "time" I heard so much about actually did heal my wounds, seeing pictures of him and status updates really vexed my spirit. I went from heartbreak to anger, which did me no good; the opposite of love isn't hate, but rather indifference. I hadn't reached the state of indifference. A close male friend of mine and a mentor of sorts once told me, "Fuck him. Pretend he died. Don't check his social networks. There's nothing there for you anymore," but it wasn't always that easy. I was used to seeing what he was up to, and it was hard to quit cold turkey. I was enjoying being a masochist; there would NEVER be anything on his social networks that would make me happy, but anything could trigger my rage. The mere sight of his face could trigger it. But here I was, curing my boredom with emotional cutting. I had to stop, but how?
When I went home for Christmas, I was greeted with a beautiful new car that was everything I didn't even know I wanted. I didn't ask for a new car. To be honest, when my parents asked what I wanted for Christmas, I said "just new contact lenses and gym clothes. Oh, and a job." Not only did I get contact lenses and gym clothes, but I chauffeured my brother and his new wife around in my new car. My entire family sat around the table and talked about life, love, and careers, and I was so full of love. I had every reason to be happy. I was in a state of sheer bliss, and refused to let emotional cutting ruin my holiday. It had been a while since I looked at his page, and not coincidentally, I couldn't remember the last time I was in a funk. There was no way I was checking up on any of his social networks. There was nothing for me there. I got rid of every email, letter...anything I had on my hard drive, my room, or my car that reminded me of a painful past, determined to go into the New Year not holding onto the things that should be left in 2012.
The day after Christmas, I jetted back to NYC in a horrible storm to make it for another interview at Girl Scouts of the USA. I was confident in my abilities, but refused to let the fact that it was my 3rd interview render me confident and complacent. I prepared, studied my resume, and mapped out social media strategies in case they wanted to see what I can do for the company. I nailed my interview, and found out New Year's Eve that I got the job. Unreal. My dream company, and I'm working for it.
Then it hit me.
God is making SO many things happen for me because I simply sat back and let Him take control over my life. I learned to trust him completely. No matter what may or may not happen the way I want it to, I know God has a better plan for me, and because I put this trust in Him, He's giving me unspeakable joy and peace that surpasses all understanding. Why would I throw all of that away by emotional cutting when I'm bored? It would be a slap in God's face to continue thinking about/writing about/and keeping tabs on the past when He's making the present an absolute dream. So, I won't. And for weeks, I haven't. I have no desire to see what exes are doing. I have no desire to speak to those who have hurt me. I wish them well, and I pray for them (I hate doing it, but my mama taught me to do that.), but I'm ready to leave them in the past and never speak of them again. It feels good, this "new beginnings" thing.
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