Carpe Diem

Breakups are so awkward. They happen all the time, most everyone has been through one, and yet there's no real protocol on how to handle anything. You've spent months and years focusing on yourself and when the break happens, suddenly what everyone else thinks of you becomes glaringly apparent. Everyone seems to have an idea of what is best for you and what you absolutely should not be doing. People are worried about you, sure, which is why you're under the microscope but that worry can seep into judgement a little too easily. You find yourself afraid to divulge the sinful details of your new post-breakup routine. Things like "I'm actually happy" or "I feel better". You have bad days, and people tend to understand those because they make more sense from the outside. But showing excitement about your new life a little too soon? Clearly you're in denial.

When you're a teenager, breaking up is the end of the fucking world. If you're like the vast majority of teenagers and go out with someone who is in your same school, you realize you can't get away from them easily, if at all. You still have the same classes, you still have the same lunch schedule, and when they find someone else - their new relationship will play itself out right in front of you like some rerun with a different cast. It's brutal.

Then you get to college and your eyes are opened a little wider; maybe you start to see those other fish in the sea everyone was talking about. You start to discover what you like and don't like, get screwed over completely by someone who sweet talks you into believing whatever they promised you, and screw over others the same way because in this transient environment, you can.

Maybe in your 20s you feel as though you've been on both sides of the coin enough to know what the hell you're doing and you decide to get into a relationship with someone who has a common vision of where you both are going in life. These breakups hurt because during this time, you really do think you may have it figured out. These hurt your heart and rattle your sense of security. By now you've established your sense of identity and someone's just rejected it. Enter: jaded and bitter. If you let them. A lot of people do.

Then comes your first adult relationship. The one people take seriously for you. The one your friends put aside their differences to accept. You might spend years and years together. You might plan on spending your life together. You have the same friends. People see you as a unit. This relationship is in terms of the rest of your life. There is no sugar-coating it; these breakups are completely and utterly devastating. Like, hard-to-bounce-back-from devastating. Why-people-write-sad-songs devastating. Shun-society-and-become-a-pig-farmer-in-a-remote-country devastating. These are the ones people don't want you to get over. At least it seems that way.

"Take some time for yourself."

"Don't rush into anything."

"You don't need another relationship right now."

It's probably the three safest things to say to someone who just suffered a setback to their life plan. Or is it? When does Carpe Diem! Live for the day! Turn into "Woah, slow down and don't make any decisions right now."? Straddling the line between slowing down and feeling like your time is running the fuck out is maybe one of the more difficult things life throws your way. Why would I be taking time for myself? To reflect inward, to 'find' myself? I have been doing that for years. Why would I be rushing? Because I feel like time is finite? I don't need another relationship right now? Wrong. I don't need another shitty relationship, no. If the whole point of why I left my life plans was because the quality of them was not up to par, why would I sit by idly while I could be working to build something awesome that makes me happy? I guess that does not make sense. The whole point was that I want to be in a relationship. When the dust settles, I want to give back and write notes and call to say 'hi I miss you' and come home to a hug and hear that I'm a beautiful person. If all I wanted was a healthy relationship, and I didn't get one, why should I do anything but get into one? That IS what I wanted.

Is it better to go out and stay out until 2am with my friends trying to find the bottom of a bottle, because that seems to be a more acceptable way to deal, or to stay so busy with booze and social events I can't sit down and take the time to deal with my pain - but whatever I do, just don't meet anyone? Because at a time where you have a lot of room for self-defeatist behavior and self-destruction, you should most assuredly be alone? Or worse: in the company of people who enable that destructive behavior?

When is an acceptable time for me to be happy again? 2 months? 5 months? 3 years? When is it okay with everyone that I start seizing the day again instead of sitting on my ass watching movies waiting for some awesome shit to just happen for me?

You know, I have my share of bad days. Days where I feel like I failed and that others failed me. I deal with it. I talk about it. I evaluate where I am now and know it is better. Sometimes when you're not happy because of external circumstances, you need to get happy by removing those circumstances. I know myself, and I know my strength and I know two things:

1. I know I deserve to be with someone who makes me happy.

2. I don't need anyone's approval to live my life, because it belongs to me.

The secret of success in life is for a man to be ready for his opportunity when it comes. -Benjamin Disraeli

Will you be ready?