It's mid March. On Friday, we had a really bad sleet/snow storm. The day before that, we had 60 degree weather, and I wore a dress and open toed heels to work. Weather like that is a sign that anything can happen. But I think I'd be more optimistic if it happened the other way around, if the 60 degree weather followed the storm. For some reason, it feels like regression, a step back. And I couldn't shake the feeling of darkness ...of clouds, which is probably why I spent the better half of the day huddled underneath bedcovers. It caught me off guard. The storm must've been a reminder that things can change in a day, in a few hours, in a wind's course. I have to be a little more resilient when it comes to change. I have to learn how to adapt, without having to compromise my happiness, my sense of self. I think I didn't feel any real changes in my life when H was around, because he was a constant for almost four years. Constancy. While it gives you a sense of security, it can be a dangerous thing. If you stay in a safe place for too long, you’ll forget how to deal with all the rickety situations.

I don't know what's gotten into me. I was doing so well being alone and free until D came back into the picture. Laughter was back in my life. Some sense of stability. Then he pops back in again… randomly as usual. First it was the Chinese pancakes from Chinatown. Then dinner on Wednesday night… the reason for my attempted nonchalance, but apparently not-so-nonchalant behavior tonight. Tonight. Tonight. I feel so blue, and beaten, and broken. Broken-hearted, that things didn’t really turn out as planned.

So when we went to dinner, I had my signature Amaretto Sour, and as I’ve mentioned, I don’t drink much, so of course I was tipsy after the first one. I was more out of it than I thought, because I apparently sent him some stupid text messages when I got home at the end of the evening. I jump. Too fast. Especially when there’s no reason to jump. I didn’t directly tell him that I had feelings for him, but I might as well have. He knows. And now, I feel so foolish.

There was this girl I once knew in high school, who had incredible spunk, incredible gumption. Rejection never fazed her. In fact, it rolled off her shoulder. She collected crushes like baseball cards, keeping the stats, even if they weren’t too impressive, close to her heart – because she knew she was an “it” girl, the leading lady, and definitely not the mere confidant or sidekick best friend. Heartbreaks happened first period and conquered by lunch. That girl used to be me.

I miss that part of myself, and I’m trying real hard to reclaim her. It’s funny really. I minored in Women and Gender Studies. I took classes on empowerment. I participated in leadership programs in college. I’m supposed to be strong-willed, self possessed, driven, independent, intelligent, beautiful – yet here I am, wallowing in heartbreak. There I was tonight, hiding, ignoring him, mostly because I was embarrassed.

Embarassed! Why should I be the one who’s embarrassed? Not to toot my own horn, but I’m a pretty amazing and thoughtful chick. I got him Chinese pancakes. I got him a super cute and thoughtful Christmas present this year. And I listen to all his (unbearable for me to hear) sexcapades with other girls. I am pretty amazing. And if he can’t see how close to perfect I actually am, then he should be the one who’s embarrassed. Now that is gumption.

Thank you to the corniness of The Holiday for the tonight’s revelation.

And let it be known that "I like corny. I'm looking for corny in my life." Goodnight.