Thursday, February 17, 2011

The past few weeks have been yet another emotional roller-coaster. I've tried to take my mind off of things by focusing on schoolwork, applying for internships that I have absolutely no chance of getting, and just telling myself none of this matters. I mean, seriously, in comparison to the stresses of law school, this shit is nothing. Not only in comparison to law school in general, but in comparison to the first year of law school--supposedly the most important year of a law student's career. I shouldn't be wasting time thinking about things so trivial. My best friend told me that I've become a person that she doesn't recognize anymore. Honestly, I like to think that I'm the same, rational person that I always have been, but just confronted with a new situation that I've never before encountered.

Flipping through a journal that I had splurged on before I started law school, I read all of the quotes that I had gathered and promised myself that I would read whenever I found myself in a difficult situation.

"Ask yourself this question: Will this matter a year from now?"
"Life is just one damned thing after another."
"...just another twist in the plot...everything is perfect."
"What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise."
"Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending."
"...everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of human freedoms--to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's way."

The above are just a few from the top of my head. These quotes, however, as well as all the other mental coaching that I have put myself through in the past few weeks, only provide a temporary relief. After bouts of self-assurance from psyching myself up for potential internships, upon remembering the smallest details of what was once there, waves of disappointment and sadness just abolish all of my attempts to move on. I find myself right back to where I started.

"Move on."

Like so many things, it's easier said than done--despite all the work that I need to get done and that are more important than this. Last week, I looked at one of my classmates who had interviews lined up nearly everyday of the week and was barely getting any sleep. As she complained about how much work she had to do, I glanced away, completely ashamed and embarrassed.

"Move on."

It's easier said than done, especially considering that I got attached, that it was the first of many, many things for me, and especially considering that I was so happy and then all of a sudden, it was just torn away from me in less than an hour. Initially, I was more shocked than anything else. I had spent so much time overcoming my doubts and forcing myself out of my comfort zone. I ignored my friends' opinions, entirely convinced that while they could be right, it was more likely that I was right because they didn't have my perspective on how things really were. But as it turned out, all of my time ignoring my own doubts and suspicions was for nothing.

But, as one of my friends questioned, wouldn't the end result have been the same anyway? They were right--I knew that at some point in a few months, this all would have come to an end. But in my view, it still would have been a different situation. The only difference would have been that I knew what was coming. I would have had time to prepare myself and brace myself for the end. Of course, being prepared doesn't necessarily mean that I would've been completely fine and unaffected, but at least then, I wouldn't have felt betrayed and disappointed as I'm feeling right now. Naturally, taking this risk wouldn't have been entirely my decision. But at the time, taking that risk was how things were looking to be going.

I had already been preparing myself. Little did I know that my preparation was going to be futile. I didn't know how to react when things ended the way it did that night--there was just too much to process, given everything that had happened the night before. But the more that I thought about it, the more surreal it all was. It was as if I was having a delayed reaction to everything. I still can't believe it even now--how was it possible, that when I had been preparing myself for another five to eight months, that it had all ended right then and there?

At the time, I tried to encourage myself that all of what had happened wasn't for nothing. I tried to encourage myself that it wasn't all ending, especially given the amount of trust I had put into this. My friend told me "Well, he's from the area, so it's not like he's going to be gone forever." We could still be friends, sure. Also, and what I thought was most important, it wasn't as if it was going to be a one-sided situation where I was going to be the only one struggling and hurting. I thought that I wouldn't be the only one missing the other. Naturally, we both had our busy schedules, filled with everything else that life had to throw at us, and I didn't expect for this whole situation to consume our days, but really, given everything that had happened the night before and with all these feelings at stake, wouldn't it have to come up at some point?

I waited for it to. While my friends were shocked and disgusted by the nonchalance and douchebag-esque behavior, I waited patiently, thinking that there had to be some sort of explanation. I placed so much trust into this whole situation, and I wasn't just going to let distrust ruin everything, especially if it was just my imagination running wild. But while I thought this, the doubt that I tried so hard to fight off in the beginning began to creep back again. I told myself I was being selfish and was turning things into a pathetic "what about me?" situation, so I waited some more. It didn't help that I was missing everything that we had and that I desperately wanted things to go back to how they were.

In the end, my doubt and suspicions overpowered my patience. I felt extremely betrayed. Sure, maybe you had gone through this type of thing before and knew how to handle things for yourself, but that surely didn't help how I was feeling.


A few days later, we finally met in person. The meeting didn't go at all how I was expecting it to: the whole thing was a slap in the face. I was told that things never would've worked out anyway. Admittedly I had asked for straightforwardness, but I had never felt so betrayed and hurt.

Admittedly, things had only been going for about a month, but how does a 180-degree change just occur like that for such simplistic reasons? Given the emotions that had occurred that night, how does that just happen? Afterwards, I thought about it and analyzed the conversation: the coldness and the "because I'm really that analytical and fast-paced" explanation. Even if someone is that fast-paced and analytical, can emotions and feelings supposedly that strong just dramatically change like that? I thought to myself that the only possible way that they could is if those feelings and emotions weren't even there in the first place. The whole thing seemed like complete bullshit. My level of doubt continued to increase, and I practically concluded that the whole thing, starting from November 11th when we first met (yes, I do remember the exact date), was just an act. I was furious.

But again, I didn't want to let my distrust just ruin things. Maybe it was the truth. But even if it was the truth, then it was still unfair--I had worked so hard to let go and and put faith into things, yet in the end it was all thrown back at my face with cold stares and more than enough shrugs. I debated back and forth in my head. Was everything all an act, or not? If if was an act, I wanted it said to my face so that I could just move on and not waste my time on something that never even existed. If it wasn't an act, then the whole thing was still bullshit because it didn't make any sense to me.

I slept only three hours Friday night trying to analyze and rationalize things. I drove myself crazy. I knew at the time that I had the choice to let things go, that I had more important things to focus on, that it was just one person, and that one year from now, none of this would even matter. I knew I still had school going amidst all of this, and that I was risking my precious 1L grades. I was completely aware that I had two choices that I had the absolute freedom to choose between: move on and forget, or continue to dwell.

I continued to dwell. More importantly, I chose to dwell. My friends thought I was being irrational, but in my mind I was being completely rational because I knew how stupid it all was and I knew the reasons for moving on.  Yet despite it all, I still chose to dwell. Why? Obviously I wasn't ready to move on. I felt like I didn't have all the answers. Everything felt incomplete and I didn't understand a single damned thing. I needed to have answers and things resolved because that's just how I am. I needed to understand everything and why things happened in the ways that they did.

At the same time, I realized the impossibility of understanding everything, especially if my doubt was going to stay in the picture. While I was torn about whether the whole thing was an act or not, I gave the slightest benefit of the doubt and wanted to make things peaceful. I called truce, hoping to keep at least a close friendship. Honestly, at the time that I called truce, I was hoping for things to get back to how they used to be. Not necessarily close like how things were, but more like when we could just hang out and talk. But following that truce, I immediately realized that things were definitely different. It was like we were barely even acquaintances. It pained me, and I ended up missing everything that we had that much more. Again I started to wonder whether the emotions on the other side were ever really there at all.

Valentine's Day was bitter. I specifically remember promising to keep my evening open for a surprise. I should've cared less, but honestly, I was looking forward to it. It was perhaps foolish of me, considering all the other promises that had been made to me yet were never followed through with. But later that day, I received a text from an unknown number. The message referred to something that had never even crossed my mind. The timing was impeccable, given all the doubts and suspicions that were already lurking in my mind. I was shocked. It stayed on my mind for nearly the whole day before I finally told you, and it only added to my already escalating doubt, despite learning later that it was only a prank. Timing throughout this whole fiasco has been just astounding. Although I learned the message was a prank, and I kept wondering "What if?" Was this the only reason why things had ended? The idea reluctantly left my mind, but again, the timing of the whole issue was impeccable. As soon as we ran into each other, the idea of the message immediately rushed back. Rational thinking had gone kaput and I couldn't help wondering about it as you talked to me. It was only then that I decided to act "intrusive" and ask. I'm not sure how you arrived at your conclusions, but in the end, I was left as confused as ever, and angered that you could just cut me off so quickly without even fully explaining yourself and letting me explain in return. Is that really what friends do to each other? Or was that your excuse for telling me that you just didn't want me in your life, not taking into account what had just happened? And "Leave me alone from now on?" I'm sorry, but was I bothering you in the first place? Maybe I could've gotten the hint from your seemingly disinterested responses to my messages, but as you once told me, "Be straightforward please."

I tell people I don't care anymore. I wish it were the case, but it's not true. I do care. I've always known that I am a sentimental person and it's a side of me that I hate and don't like to reveal, but this whole situation has forced it out of me so that not even my friends can recognize me. I guess I'm not as strong of a person as we both thought I was. If you don't want to be friends anymore, then so be it. Perhaps it's better that way because maybe I'm just not strong enough for it. I only write this because I want you to know everything that has gone through my head during the past few weeks. And yes, with that clear text message you sent me, I know that you don't want to talk about this anymore. And yes, I've realized how annoyed you get whenever your exes come around to confront you. But I don't care because clearly it's affecting me more than you. And why should I care if we're not friends anymore? You told me not to be selfish. But right now I have to be. You told me to be more open with people (which I still don't understand considering how you were so drawn to my "mysteriousness"), so here I am, doing it in the way that I know best--through writing. You told me to "move on." But like I said, easier said than done. Quite frankly, I think it's selfish of you to even tell me that. How do you have the right to tell me how to feel, when you were a part of what caused me to feel this way in the first place?

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