Finals Week: Spoiler Alert, I Got An "F" in Love

My boyfriend recently broke up with me (and by recently I mean four days ago) and I'm being surprisingly calm about it.  Is it the calm before the storm?  Is it my new "zen" personality?  Do I just give zero fucks?
I can never figure out what is going on in my mind until I write it out, so why not do that shit publicly so any poor bastard can stumble upon it?  YES!

We have been having our differences, as any couple does, and I'll spare you all of the boring details.  It boils down to lack of communication (doesn't it always) and us being in a long distance relationship.  However, things took a real turn when he saw the new apartments that I'm going to be living in next year.  It's a gorgeous complex with a pool, hot tub, grills, game room, walk in closets; it's really the works.  I'm in love with it.  His attitude towards the impending school years changed as he saw that I want to live a rich life.  And I won't deny that shit, I want to make money and look like it too.  I've seen my parents struggle paycheck to paycheck and that isn't the life I want for myself or my future family.

So basically it's been three weeks since we saw the apartment and everything has been off.  I've been with the guy for 10, almost 11 months.  I know when shit is going down.  And this Friday, he broke up with me.
Let me first explain that it is currently finals week which means that I will be home in seven god damn days. He couldn't hold in this information for a week until my exams were over and we could talk face to face.
And what was this grand break up?  Well, it was him saying that he "doesn't love me the same."  His inspired speech contained, "I'm 25, I need to settle down" and "I don't want to struggle for the next two years.  I just don't see us going anywhere."  The really cherry was, "I still want to be friends.  You're the only girl I've ever wanted to stay friends with.  You're my longest relationship."

And we didn't finish this lovely conversation because I had to go to a meeting, but I haven't heard from him since.
I get mad every time I think about it, and I don't want to be that super clingy blind girl, but I think it's all a bold faced lie.  I think he's scared that he'll lose me and he wants to end it all before it gets any deeper.  Or maybe he really doesn't love me any more.  I really just can't focus or think of anything (like my motherfucking finals) when we haven't ended our conversation.  When I just let my jaw drop as I thought of all the things we've been though.
And the settle down thing is a joke, I won't bother to explain why, just trust me.


Okay, well that was just me explaining....that thing I said I wouldn't do in the beginning.  Oh well.  I can't figure any of this out, but I'll be damned if  I shed any tears for a silly confused boy who doesn't appreciate the driven, funny, smart, and generous chick in front of him.

Night, ya'll

The Five Stages of Grief & How I Handle Love

If I had a whole list of things about the reasons I'm a fucked up person, "love makes me sad" would probably be number 7 or 8.  And "Being Naggy" would be 13, but that's a different story.

When it comes to love in real life, I basically go through the five stages of grieving.

1) Denial.  I don't love this guy, I haven't been with him long enough to love him.  I still think other guys are cute sometimes.  What is love anyway?  Maybe I love him, but I'm not in love with him, there's a difference right?

2) Anger.  How dare I love someone?  It's not like this is going to amount to anything!  How dare he be so nice that I fall in love?  This is stupid!  I'm stupid!  

3) Bargaining.  Maybe if distance myself from him I won't love him anymore.  I won't text back as fast, we won't hang out as often, I won't wear the bracelet he got me and I won't love him this much and it'll all be fine.  Maybe by doing all of these things he'll think I'm crazy and distance himself from me!  Then I really won't love him this much, genius!

4) Depression.  If I tell him I love him things will be too serious, and then they won't work out.  He's going to break my heart, and worse, I deserve it for being such a dumbass and falling for him.  I don't deserve love, there's no way he'll love me back, this is going to end badly. [insert countless versions of a break up scene.]

5) Acceptance.  I've been told it's nice at this stage, I wouldn't know. [insert more of stage 4 depression.]

Since I was 15 I've always thought I was too weird, too ugly, and too overlooked to ever make someone happy.  For the past 5 years that line of thought has proven to be true.  It's what I've told myself after every breakup or version of "heartbreak" that I've come across in my life.  When someone leaves me, it's always because I'm lacking in some way.  I've talked about this a lot in my blog, I know I have, and hopefully I'm not beating people over the head with it.  It's just such a destructive line of thought and I know that it affects me in every relationship I have.

In my current relationship my boyfriend puts in effort to better himself for me (haircut, cutting back a bit on cigarettes, etc), he gets jealous of other guys, and laughs at my jokes.  He'll even stay up for over 24 hours to spend time with me (he works night shift, makes for weird hangout and sleeping hours). He tells me I'm beautiful every day, he says how lucky he is to have me every chance he gets, and I literally catch him gazing at me.

When he does or says these things, I get very quiet and reserved and he always asks me what's wrong.  I don't know how to tell him that I'm scared sick of how breaking up or him not putting in as much effort will affect me.  That I don't feel like I deserve these things.  I'm not good enough for this.  I feel like a fraud, accepting gifts that belong to some other girl.  Some other girl that he will eventually find and leave me for.  I really don't know how to say it without sounding pathetic or ungrateful or without making him mad at how much I dislike myself.  I mean, if I don't like "me," how can anyone else?

Loosing The Feeling of Feeling Unique

Somewhere between packing for college and putting together my dorm room I lost myself.
I'm determined to find me again.

I think the biggest sign of this loss is my choice of clothing.  I used to be up to date (in my own middle-of-nowhere way) and I would enjoy putting together clothes.  I loved finding new things in the store, and most of all I loved turning something I already owned into something completely different.  For example scarves become headbands, socks become leg warmers or things to make a bun out of.
I can't seem to do these things anymore and I'm not sure why.  I've become the girl who wears jeans and a t-shirt every day, all day.  Then I would become convinced that other girls that would wear just jeans and a t-shirt were wearing it much better than me.
A loss of confidence perhaps?
Maybe it's because my entire group of friends split and went different ways?
It could be something as simple as my closest is now split between home and school and it's causing the fashion version of writers block.

I'm determined to change this.  I'm planning on getting a job, saving up money, and spending the leftovers on things that will make me feel good again.
I got good grades, but I think I just can't feel accomplished until I am able to provide for myself and not rely on others for things.  Even my parents (who honestly can't afford to buy the nice kind of toilet paper right now--but that's a different story) can be no help when it comes to money.

It's not quite a new year's rez, but it'll do.  For now anyway;)

Dirty socks and other laundry I'd like to air

So I'm about to talk about something really personal, awkward, and embarrassing.  Even more than usual.
But first, I'd like to build it up and chat a little bit about some of the unconventional things my first semester of college has taught me:
1) Roommates aren't meant to share everything.
I'm very good friends with my roommate, we even chose to room together.  We party together, share food, and talk to each other about mostly everything.  However, I made the mistake of not putting my foot down about a guy I liked, and she ended up sleeping with him.  That kind of sharing isn't okay.  Share the fact he's off limits, don't share his dick.
2) You're going to have a shit ton of exams.
Study for one at a time. You will kill yourself trying to study a week ahead of time, keep up with the class, but don't spend every night making flash cards.
3) Laundry is expensive!
I spend about $20 on laundry every month and yet I just can't seem to get my socks as clean as my mom did...
4) Put a damn condom on.  Please!
Everyone tells you this, basically from the time you learn about sex.  You nod your head, swear you'll never go without, and then end up doing it anyways.  In fact, even as I write this I know that whoever is reading this will, at some point, decide against a condom.  You really won't realize how important they are until you have a pregnancy or STI scare.  Hopefully it'll just be a scare and not too late.

And that brings me to number five.  Oh, number five...you shitty little asshat.
A little over a week ago I went to a frat date night as a favor for my friend.  Since most of the pledges and dates weren't 21 we pregamed before going to a club, which was fun.  After a while my friend and I ditched our dates and began to really have a good time.
A screwdriver, shot, and 1/2 pitcher of beer later, I'm open minded enough to dance with just about anyone.  When one of my lovely dance partners kisses me on the lips I don't think much of it, except for the fact that I wasn't into him enough for anything but dancing.  I didn't pay much attention then, but I should have taken a good look at the giant cold sore on his freaking lip.
Herpes.
I realized yesterday that I'd been exposed and I was at the doctors less than 24 hours later, and that's where I got my (possibly) most important lesson.
Yeah, herpes is a shitty thing to have, but it's not that big of a deal.  Apparently 1 in 6 people have it, although most don't break out.  The doctor told me that I hadn't broken out yet, so I wouldn't, but that it was unnecessary to do a test because I most likely had been exposed to it at one point or another.  I paid $15 so a doctor could tell me that basically "[I've] probably got this, but so does everyone else."

Needless to say, kissing strangers has officially been taken off of my to-do list and I'll be paying a lot more attention to cold sores, drunk or not.
Learn from me.