So you're not Miss Popular. You're no size zero and you don't want to be. You've also got all that baggage. And you have a friend. Of the opposite sex (or whichever sex you prefer). And you like them more than they may be comfortable with. And you really want them to know because there's a tiny spark of hope deep down there, that they might just feel the same way about you, but that spark is really tiny and dishing out your feelings might just ruin the friendship.
That, ladies and gentlemen, sucks.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Lessons learned
What loving Jonas taught me
So 2007 I met Jonas and 2008 I realized I had feelings for that anjovis. The spineless eel was so sweet, caring, funny, cute, somewhat doggish, helpful, I just couldn't resist that little fleabag.
Then in 2009 he hurt me so bad I gulped 150 sleeping pills, slit my wrists, took something to speed up the sleeping pills' effect, and lay down, looking forward to being dead. I remember smiling and all I hoped for, was for him to find out and be devastated. And after they defibbed me, the agony went on until that same day (plus some) 2 years later, in 2011. That was when something happened, not saying what, that made all the Jonas-pain go away along with all the love I felt for him, all the angries, all the emos, all the missing...
The thing is, when you've only just lost someone you love so very, very much, letting go of whatever you have left of them - memories, Facebook, pictures, or even hurt or resentment - seems scary, because that person was everything to you and losing them means losing - everything. You wouldn't want to lose whatever sad little remnants of "everything" there still is, even if it's only the pain of loss. So you cling on to that in whatever way you can: You send them (angry or forlorn or whatever) emails, you mention or imply them in Facebook statuses, you go through your pictures of them, and if you've parted on horrible terms you make blogs about them... Clinging to whatever is left of your feelings, and using memories to light those feelings up again. Eventhough love has become pain. Pain still feels better than nothing, right?
Basically, you'll be picking at the scabs of the "wound of loss". By keeping the wound from closing, you're hurting yourself, but you'll also keep the feelings alive and the memories fresh. Feels right, right?
But the pain is the only thing picking at those scabs will ever give you anymore. If you keep picking, like I did for years, you'll keep yourself from healing and if you pick at those scabs in a way the other person knows about it, they will end up resenting you for making them feel bad. The more you pick at the scabs of what has happened, the slimmer the chances of ever even being "just friends" again. I learned that the harsh way; Jonas wants nothing more to do with me, too much picking at both our scabs. Jonas tried to get over the loss of our friendship by staying out of my business, ignoring my emails, not asking or talking about me; not because he hated me but because he wanted the absurdity and the hurt to be over. Because this was no longer our friendship, but the hard feelings our clashes had produced. Not asking about you, doesn't mean they don't care. They just don't want to expose themselves to the hurt of refreshing the memory of you. They want to move on. They want the right thing, even if it feels scary or cruel. And that doesn't only apply when you parted on bad terms. And Jonas and I had the luxury of making up and parting on good terms, this February, with a hug and some tears. And then I went and ruined it by picking some more.
But eventhough letting go of the last remaining emotions by leaving the scabs alone, seems scary, once it's done, it's okay. Because when you allow feelings to fade, they stop mattering. It's not gonna be that big gaping, aching hole you fear it'll be. You'll look at your wound and find it healing nicely, and you'll smile and feel like a huge weight just dropped off your chest. It's not because the prospect of a memory fading hurts, that it actually hurts to find the memory faded. It FADED.
Getting over someone is not done by refreshing the memory and the hurt over and over just to keep holding on to something. It's done by moving on, whatever that means to each one. To some, it means as little as a one-night-stand, for others it's a flirt, a fling, a new deep love, a hobby, whatever gets your mind off of the loss long and intensely enough to snuff out that sad, painful, desperate little last glimmer of a fire that WILL NOT EVER BURN AGAIN.
How am I doing? I don't even miss the friendship with Jonas anymore. I try to reminisce and find I can't be arsed to care. It's a supposed to be nice, yet dull and superficial memory that doesn't draw any more emotions from me. I smile, I shrug and I stop trying to piece his face together in my fading memory. I used to be terrified of feeling that way, but now that I do, I'm okay; I'm okay for the first time in more than 2 years, and I can finally look him in the eye (well... webcam..) and say "I forgive you" and feel honest and right about deciding to make that the last he'll hear from me. Now I can stop hurting myself by basking in his painful memory, and I can finally allow him to get on with his life with no more guilt on his shoulders. That was why my mom had sent me to Israel in the first place; it just took a little more than making Aliya. I could have sworn I'd be in agony over Jonas for the rest of a life that I'd end sooner rather than later. And now all I want, is have a family of my own and grow old, even gray and ugly, and Jonas doesn't even have a cameo in that film.
So 2007 I met Jonas and 2008 I realized I had feelings for that anjovis. The spineless eel was so sweet, caring, funny, cute, somewhat doggish, helpful, I just couldn't resist that little fleabag.
Then in 2009 he hurt me so bad I gulped 150 sleeping pills, slit my wrists, took something to speed up the sleeping pills' effect, and lay down, looking forward to being dead. I remember smiling and all I hoped for, was for him to find out and be devastated. And after they defibbed me, the agony went on until that same day (plus some) 2 years later, in 2011. That was when something happened, not saying what, that made all the Jonas-pain go away along with all the love I felt for him, all the angries, all the emos, all the missing...
The thing is, when you've only just lost someone you love so very, very much, letting go of whatever you have left of them - memories, Facebook, pictures, or even hurt or resentment - seems scary, because that person was everything to you and losing them means losing - everything. You wouldn't want to lose whatever sad little remnants of "everything" there still is, even if it's only the pain of loss. So you cling on to that in whatever way you can: You send them (angry or forlorn or whatever) emails, you mention or imply them in Facebook statuses, you go through your pictures of them, and if you've parted on horrible terms you make blogs about them... Clinging to whatever is left of your feelings, and using memories to light those feelings up again. Eventhough love has become pain. Pain still feels better than nothing, right?
Basically, you'll be picking at the scabs of the "wound of loss". By keeping the wound from closing, you're hurting yourself, but you'll also keep the feelings alive and the memories fresh. Feels right, right?
But the pain is the only thing picking at those scabs will ever give you anymore. If you keep picking, like I did for years, you'll keep yourself from healing and if you pick at those scabs in a way the other person knows about it, they will end up resenting you for making them feel bad. The more you pick at the scabs of what has happened, the slimmer the chances of ever even being "just friends" again. I learned that the harsh way; Jonas wants nothing more to do with me, too much picking at both our scabs. Jonas tried to get over the loss of our friendship by staying out of my business, ignoring my emails, not asking or talking about me; not because he hated me but because he wanted the absurdity and the hurt to be over. Because this was no longer our friendship, but the hard feelings our clashes had produced. Not asking about you, doesn't mean they don't care. They just don't want to expose themselves to the hurt of refreshing the memory of you. They want to move on. They want the right thing, even if it feels scary or cruel. And that doesn't only apply when you parted on bad terms. And Jonas and I had the luxury of making up and parting on good terms, this February, with a hug and some tears. And then I went and ruined it by picking some more.
But eventhough letting go of the last remaining emotions by leaving the scabs alone, seems scary, once it's done, it's okay. Because when you allow feelings to fade, they stop mattering. It's not gonna be that big gaping, aching hole you fear it'll be. You'll look at your wound and find it healing nicely, and you'll smile and feel like a huge weight just dropped off your chest. It's not because the prospect of a memory fading hurts, that it actually hurts to find the memory faded. It FADED.
Getting over someone is not done by refreshing the memory and the hurt over and over just to keep holding on to something. It's done by moving on, whatever that means to each one. To some, it means as little as a one-night-stand, for others it's a flirt, a fling, a new deep love, a hobby, whatever gets your mind off of the loss long and intensely enough to snuff out that sad, painful, desperate little last glimmer of a fire that WILL NOT EVER BURN AGAIN.
How am I doing? I don't even miss the friendship with Jonas anymore. I try to reminisce and find I can't be arsed to care. It's a supposed to be nice, yet dull and superficial memory that doesn't draw any more emotions from me. I smile, I shrug and I stop trying to piece his face together in my fading memory. I used to be terrified of feeling that way, but now that I do, I'm okay; I'm okay for the first time in more than 2 years, and I can finally look him in the eye (well... webcam..) and say "I forgive you" and feel honest and right about deciding to make that the last he'll hear from me. Now I can stop hurting myself by basking in his painful memory, and I can finally allow him to get on with his life with no more guilt on his shoulders. That was why my mom had sent me to Israel in the first place; it just took a little more than making Aliya. I could have sworn I'd be in agony over Jonas for the rest of a life that I'd end sooner rather than later. And now all I want, is have a family of my own and grow old, even gray and ugly, and Jonas doesn't even have a cameo in that film.
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