Inspiration

The show Sex and the City was very much an inspiration for this blog. I liked the narrative. The idea of working through life being single, especially at my age. And writing about it was something I thought would not only be therapeutic, but a reminder of lessons I should learn. Being honest about the entire experience. Good and bad.

I just watched the second movie. And I won't get into how fucking ridiculous it was. That is a completely different subject. Good god was it bad.

Anyway, it's sometimes really easy to choose to write about certain things. Accomplishments, pitfalls, heartbreak. But it becomes really easy to pick and choose what truths you want revealed. Not only to my humble audience, but to myself.

And so, I was going to skip this one.

And then I decided, if I'm going to write on this blog. If I'm going to choose to be candid and honest about my life, I shouldn't skip the bad parts. I can't ignore my moments of weakness.

And so, I was weak. And yes...drunk. And I went to see The DJ last night.

As I walked up to his house. He sitting on a chair at the porch. And he had his squinty eyes on. Which means he was equally as drunk. When I was walking there, I picked a flower for him, and handed it to him, not realizing there was a giant wad of dirt hanging from the bottom. I pulled the entire root out. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know.

We hugged, and we spoke a lot. There was a lot to be said. He wanted me to know that the break-up was entirely his fault. His thing, as he put it. And he told me I was the best girlfriend he has ever had. That I am a special girl. I told him I knew why he broke up with me. And I had a feeling that he would eventually do it. I cried, quite a bit. He played some music for me, and we laughed a lot. And it was like how when we first met. I missed that so much.

I missed him so much.

Was it the best thing to do? Probably not. But, I feel...better. A lot of the sadness just kind of disappeared. I don't know what it means. And I'm trying not to focus on what it means.

I wrote the whole experience down in my journal. Because a lot of things are just too personal. I just want to remember it, because it seemed pretty significant. It was two adults, being honest about ourselves and what we want.

And I just have to say. After a breakup you say things to close friends, that make someone seem worse than they really are. Because of that stinging bitterness. But I just want to put this in writing. I will defend that boy to the ends of the earth. Because even though people say how terrible he was for me. How they didn't like him, or trust him. I absolutely adore him. And he has his flaws, just as much as I have mine. He IS a good person, and he took care of me the best way he could.

I am standing by that.