Wakey Wakey

I've managed to stay out of the self-pity wallowing that I expected to follow the end of my relationship with my boyfriend. I think. I'm slightly afraid that it's making me seem callous and shallow...or callow...shallus? Hah. Whatever.

Clearly, distracting myself from reality isn't that much of a problem for me.

Anyway, I still haven't actually managed to refer to him as "my ex" more than once when speaking to everyone at work (pretty much everyone knows now). He's always just 'Jon'. I figure that's okay - seven years is a long time. It's pretty much the entirety of my adult life. There's going to be hangups like that - all I can do is accept them and move on. Or, at least, do my best to. Easier said than done, and all that.

It's just...it's a giant bag of dicks, is what it is.

And at the same time...I feel like I've finally come up for air, after being smothered for too long. Or like I'm waking up, after being asleep for ages. Or...any other similie, really, that represents a growing awareness of...freedom. Sun coming out from behind clouds and similar. It's like I've come to the head of a valley and there's all these trails to take and wonderful things down each one and I'll shut up now before I delve into sappiness, but the point is, giant bag of dicks aside, I actually feel alive for the first time in...I don't even know how long.

Going to the gym is helping a lot with this. A lot. I'm feeling good about how I look for the first time in at least three and a half of the last seven years, I'm flexible as all hell again (and can actually get my head to my knee without pre-stretching now, which I haven't been able to do in years), and beginning to re-teach myself basic synchro. Plus, I'm getting a friggin' corset in a couple of months or so. I'm already up to $17 of the $145, and this after a little over a week of gyming it.

That's a new word, that. Gyming. Or gymming. Not sure on the exact spelling, even though I'm the one that invented it, but there you have it. Next I just have to get it into the common lexicon. >:D

Seriously, though, I feel a little guilty about feeling so uplifted and free. And then I also feel guilty about missing the complacency that I'd been living in, of wanting to fall back into old patterns rather than move on and - at the same time - for wanting to move on. It's perverse, really. Backwards.

But I'm not turning into a crazy cat lady. That's for damn certain.

Ow.

So my prediction of needing lots of chocolate and distracting things came true, a little earlier than I'd anticipated. I broke up with my boyfriend on Friday.

It's the first time I've ever done this, or gone through the emotions associated with it. I saw it coming a mile off (we haven't been happy together for, probably, about 3.5 of the 7 years we were together), but it still surprised me how much it hurt. I keep having to remind myself that I'm single now, that it's acutally okay for me to look at other men and that it's no longer risque or border-line forbidden to put them in my thoughts rather than him...I think I'll probably have to remind myself of this a lot over the next little while.

The other thing - I've no longer got this...protective barrier, almost, between me and the rest of mankind (and some womankind), because I can no longer truthfully say 'Taken!' when anyone I don't like asks. Or anyone I do like, I suppose...since being 'taken' means I have one of those labels that other people get and understand and so I'd have a point of commonality with the rest of the world. Except that often backfired since people would ask me questions I wouldn't understand the need for, or be able to come up with answers for...so it's a bit of a toss up.

Still. I now find myself facing the idea of living in Alberta alone. Not just without Bean, but alone in the sense that I don't even have the idea of a prospective visit to look forward too. Well, a prospective visit from my friends, which would be awesome, and possibly family, but it's not the same thing...

I shouldn't whinge, though. In a way, I've been asking for this, hoping for it but never really having the strength to carry it out on my own. It's not a good way to think; the resentment builds up. The resentment's all gone, now, since now I'm sort of in that place I go when I don't want to confront my emotions (seems like I'm there a lot), so I'm actually a little numb right now...

I'm also unsure if I should mention my newfound status to anyone at work. It feels like I'm imposing on them. I'm also a little afraid of the I-told-you-so faces that I might incur, though that's silly because no one is going to be making that face at me. I hope, anyway. At the same time, this is one of those things you're supposed to tell your work mates, isn't it? The ones who would care, at any rate...

I dunno. I just dunno. I'm free, but still feel tied down. I haven't the foggiest idea how to go about meeting anyone else - not that I want to meet anyone else. Seven years of a relationship, one that lasted pretty much my entire adult life thus far, and I'm still completely ignorant about some things.

But I'm free. I just have to keep reminding myself of this. Eventually it might sink in.

O_O

...

'Nough said.

Huh

Yesternight was the staff Christmas party, and it was quite fun. Well, except for the Dairy Death I experienced at the hands of the grated parmesean cheese on the salad and the cheese sauce on the salmon (which was ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, inspite of this), but everything else was awesome. I got an amazing pair of really nice gloves for the gift - there was so much stuff on the table, I had hardly any idea what to pick, but I managed it and went for the gloves, which are slightly too big, but amazingly soft and warm and - I think - for snowboarding, which I might be learning how to do next week. >:D

I also wore Clayton's glasses.

I don't need glasses of my own - yet. I will, probably within a year or two, owing to the fact that both of my parents are myopic and it's really a miracle that I've made it this long in my life without them. But my eyes are slowly going to shit, and Clayton's glasses actually make things just a little bit clearer, weak as they are, so I wore them. I will admit that part of my motivation was to see how people would react (can't help it; I'm an anthropologist by training. I watch people and what they do), though the rest of my motivation was that they make me look cute and all teachery/librarian like. So I wore them, thinking I'd get some harmelss fun out of it, as well as being able to see slightly better than before.

The only one who remarked on them was my boss, and when I told him why I was wearing them (the it being largely for fun), he seemed...I dunno. Weird. Then again, it's probably just the fact that I'm crazy and a little bit paranoid, but...

I get the impression that he took it as more of a sign of deception than fun. As though I'd been lying about something - like being able to see without them - and he had caught me out and was now disappointed.

...on a completely unrelated note, a rather pretty Icelandic man just checked in...

Anyway...I've totally lost my train of thought. Completely and utterly. Wow.