That cookie is on to something

This year was hard. It had a nice balance of wonderful opportunities and adventures, but I have never been knocked down so consistently, so hard, and so repeatedly in my life. Every facet of my life except for the one I built in New York was crumbling around me. As I'd pick up the pieces from one disaster and barely regain my balance, another would strike and I'd have to start all over again. Death, hospitalization, disownment, abandoment, financial woes, etc. Someone was always going through something that directly affected me.

So when I found out the love of my life (thus far) is marrying somebody else I went, "Of course he is." Even though after five and half years together it was pretty evident I wouldn't be marrying him, it didn't keep me from wishing he'd pull it together, show up on my doorstep and ask. Be that man I saw underneath, if he'd just give it a little effort. To learn he's marrying the rebound a mere eighteen months after me (the first six of which we were still in major contact for) stung, to say the least. I couldn't help but wonder if things would've gone differently had I not asked him to stop calling me twelve months ago...?

The natural reaction would be to flip out, especially since there was no class or dignity to the way I found out, but I didn't. I don't do flipping out. I do classy, mature, compartmentalized damage control. Cause when I do flip out, I flip wayyyyy out. And the only person I could or would fight for, flip out on, or be completely irrational about was the one who didn't deserve it and I no longer had the trust or desire to do that for him, with him, or on him. I had done enough of that already. Aside from jumping on a plane to wring his neck, my other option was to accept it, understand it, and get over it. I didn't cry, or scream, or fall apart. Not that day, anyway. I would later have my moments of bursting into tears, in public no less, on three different occasions. Which, to the girl who never cries, felt like a hundred. Leave it to my NY Bestie (who never met him or knew us together) to burst into tears for the both of us, channeling what I couldn't at that moment. A door had been closed, and she reminded me of how fortunate I am to still get to navigate the land of possibility and better choices awaiting through the window opened. It was a calm and simple moment where truth meets reality and, even though it's painful, you can't avoid the fact that what's happening is completely right. I actually felt happy for both of them. I felt the loss, but I couldn't avoid the feelings of peace and relief. I could not do what she is doing or put up with what she does. I wish I could, but thank my lucky stars I won't have to. I wanted to marry the man he could be; she's happy with the man he is. That's exactly how it should be.

It takes me time to process the most painful things. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I want to protect my heart and my mind and my life from as much pain as possible. If I could instantly block it out, I would. But I can't, so I let it slowly seep in until I have no choice but to face it. Months passed and as it began to sink in I felt completely jaded and angry and jealous and bitter and hurt and lost and alone and worthless and sad. I wondered why and how and what the fuck? Mostly I wished none of it had ever happened.

I wished I could know the girl I would have been without this person in my life. Even though he changed it for the better. I wondered why, why, why, why I had to have a front row seat to all my dreams with him coming true to the wrong girl in the white dress? I didn't understand what the point of it all was? What did I need to have this man in my life for if only for it to end up messy and ugly and unresolved and pointless? What is the point of falling in love if it ends up being with the wrong person? Shouldn't there be a test or something? If you're not compatible in lifestyles you should not be allowed to love each other. There should be a medication you take to avoid feelings of adoration, compatibility, connection, and butterflies. Inside jokes, uncontrollable laughter, the ability to have endless conversations and never get sick of each other, countless love letters, surprises, passion and romance should be avoided at all cost if what you come out with in the end is nothing. I related to Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind even more and wished there was a machine that could erase the memories. The thing is, "You can erase someone from your mind. Getting them out of your heart is another story." It's a tough place to be in, knowing I wouldn't be who I am without this significant person and relationship, but also feeling that maybe I'd rather be that "other me" instead to avoid knowing life before and after everything. What would that be like?

On the other hand I wouldn't allow the progress I had made in letting this person go be impeded by his success in releasing me first. The truth is, he did me a huge favor. I had to give myself credit for how far I had come in facing versus replacing and dealing with mourning the loss of love and friendship and significance over the past couple years. Not to mention how much further I will continue to go. I've been getting the hang of putting one foot in front of the other. I'm not big on tattoos but "Fake it til ya make it" might end up across my forehead when all is said and done. The pain of a broken heart has slowly begun to close up and much of what mattered no longer does.

That's how I ended up at the Szechuan restaurant.

There are certain things and places I avoid like the plague because of the memories attached. The happier the memories the further away I stay. Szechuan is one of those places. It was "our" place and we ate there all the time. I grew up going there with my family and got him hooked. The standard order was cream cheese fried wantons, which I am obsessed with, chicken fried rice, beef broccoli, and then something off the menu that varied with the current craving of the evening. Of course the best part about Chinese food is the fortune cookies. Our tradition was to take the fortune cookie closest to us and, on the count of three, we would open the cookie and read our fortunes which, ironically, were always pretty relevant to us. I still have every single one I ever opened. It's not so hard to stay away from there because it's in my hometown. The hard part is that I crave it sooooo much when I'm home, and over the past two years that has been a lot. Last year I made it all the way up to the door before turning around and going back to my car, wanton-less. I just couldn't do it. This year I felt completely different. This year I was taking back my claim on Szechuan and all the fortunes it had to offer! I was done letting nostalgia and heart ache stand in the way of a happy tummy. I had had enough sweet and sour experiences, I deserved to enjoy the sauce too. I wonder if a heart broken chef came up with that while weeping over a pot on the stove?

I made my standard order, picked it up (eating in will take a little longer but stage take-out has been overcome!) and went home happy. I devoured the deliciousness and it was just as good if not better than I remembered. At the end of the meal, I took the fortune cookie closest to me and broke it open with a satisfied crunch.

My fortune read: Time heals all wounds. Keep your chin up.

Insert laughter and appreciation: here. It was not the first time I had heard that, or repeated it over and over to myself, but it was exactly what I needed my fortune to be. Seeing it in print, on a slip of paper anyone could've gotten, gave me hope. Perspective. A wake up call. A renewed trust in the fact that with enough time, and enough Szechuan, I'll be able to release that person, and that part of my life. Because my cookie said so, dang it!

I still love him. I'll always love him. I'm sure until I find my next big love part of me will hope for an instant he'll be on my front steps as I round the corner late one night, before shaking it off and reminding myself there's no such thing as fairy tales.

Anyone who's ever been in love knows it never dies, but the pain does! I feel it lessen with every passing day. I look forward to getting over everything else and, in time, understanding whatever the reasons are for that whirlwind romance and the journey it lead me on.