Long Story Short ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As Long as Bailey is Happy... Okay. So�.how is everyone? Good? Good. Umm�wanna hear about my breakup? Yes? Yes. Superbowl Sunday � February 4th � we broke up. (Do I need to add '2007'? I haven't been gone that long, have I?) Well, more to the point, I broke up with Professor K. Very suddenly, actually. You could almost call it impulsive. We had previously been boozing, watching the Colts win their pity Superbowl (fine Peyton, take your stupid ring. Stop crying in the corner.), and doing our usual Sunday evening couch screw. And then there was a conversation. It started out light and somehow steamrolled right into serious, and then there was crying and then (hee!) there might have been a leetle bit of shouting (very one-sided shouting, in which dramatic things like, �DON�T TOUCH ME!� were snotted) and then I slept in our bed and Professor K slept in the guest room (on the futon, the most uncomfortable piece of furniture passing for a bed EVER) and the next day he moved out and we haven�t seen each other since. Confused? Yeah, so were all of my friends and family. And Professor K, I would imagine. I�m not a crazy person, I swear. And he didn�t cheat or anything evil like that, but I still feel I had good reason to do what I did. I�m not, however, going to go into detail. Suffice it to say that good, sweet Professor K has a lot of growing up to do, and our relationship had run its course. I just wonder if we would have broken up if the Patriots had made it to the Superbowl� (Hee!) The first few weeks after the breakup were�how shall I put this?...hard. I spent a lot of time on my couch, wrapped up in my comforter like a burrito, sobbing. I used a lot of Kleenex. I had started my new job just two weeks prior to the breakup and didn�t know my coworkers well enough to explain what was going on, so instead I faked a cold to explain my watery eyes and armed myself with a shit-load of bravado to stomp through those evil February workdays. But every single day, like clockwork, I would get in my car at 4:00 (Did I tell you I get out at 4? Every day? How kickass is this job!) and immediately start crying. And not the pretty trickly tears crying, either. Big ugly red-faced snot-running crying. Ugh. I was pathetic. My landlord asked me a week or so into the first Week of Misery where Professor K�s car had gone � he was worried it had been stolen � and to my shame I could not tell him about the breakup without my voice cracking. I had to bite my cheek as hard as I could (yummy! Blood!) to keep from crying while he gently pried the details from me. (Emotion is tough for me, what can I say? Crying in public? NOT SO MUCH, THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR ASKING.) Being at home in my now-lonely apartment wasn�t very easy either, as evidenced by the fact that the very night that Professor K moved out I rearranged all of the furniture in the living room. There was this ghost floating around, Professor K�s ghost, and I saw it everywhere. But strange things started happening, almost right away. Strange things like sudden and unexplainable seizures of joy and ecstasy so intense that I would find myself practically exploding. Or waking up in my suddenly-ginormous bed feeling well-rested for the first time in what felt like years. I felt�relaxed. There was an absence of irritation that made me feel young and free and myself again. Professor K and I kept up phone and text contact for the first few months afterward and that was both nice and awful. Some ugliness in April involving Hunter (who now lives in Maine, bye bye kitty!) and some additional ugliness involving � what else � money, has left us without any kind of contact at all and that�s exactly where things probably should be. It�s healthier for both of us, I would imagine. After four months I can honestly say that I don�t miss him anymore and my apartment now feels like my apartment. And I know as surely as I know that I should have taken this job that I needed to end my relationship with him. Only in retrospect do I see how many issues we had that were never going to go away. I�m glad it ended the way that it did � quick, like ripping off a band aid. I cannot imagine having had to sit down with good, sweet Professor K and tell him that I did not love him anymore. There are a million life lessons and platitudes and clich�s that I could throw out to show how much I�ve learned but I�m sure all of that drivel will fill the entries of this diary for months, if not years to come (HELLO! Haven�t I been blogging about my other ex since the dawn of time? Now there�s a new ex on the block! Stay tuned! The boring relationship analysis never ends!) My family and friends kept me sane � not just sane, really, but relatively happy (and occasionally boozed up as all hell) during the absolute worst of it � and insanely happy as the breakup detritus began to fall away. Professor K knows about this blog, has commented in it and read it and even started a diaryland blog of his own. However, I trust that he won�t read this now, it�s not really his thing anyway, and if he does read it I hope he is honest enough to tell me. Oh, and one final thought about the breakup: Bailey could not be happier! 3:23 p.m. - 2007-06-11 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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