Perhaps the Ending Has Not Yet Been Written: January 2015

This piece is just kinda be a little bit of everything. I figured it was easier just mashing everything into one post rather than spamming you guys with several different posts about everything. So be prepared to be all over the place.

First, let's cover the five stages of grief. Now, normally these apply to someone that is dealing with death, but in recent times, they've also been applied to the end of relationships. The five stages are as follows: Denial, Bargaining, Anger, Depression, Acceptance. They can happen in any order, but most of the time it's in that order, or close to.

I feel like I actually started dealing with these before the breakup even happened. As I mentioned before, I somewhat knew it was coming. So I had already begun my denial and bargaining early; I told myself he wouldn't really leave me, that things weren't as bad as I thought they were. He wouldn't leave if I put out more or if I cleaned the house more frequently or if I stopped whining about my fibro. I had an extra week or so to process and go through those stages, so the first week of the breakup was still about those too, but I/we quickly transitioned to the next stage on the list – anger.

Anger is a funny thing. It affects everyone different and people express it in different ways. Some people, like Chris and I, are very quick to temper. However, he is also quick to cool while I, on the other hand, take a long time to cool off and let it go. This often led to fights after the initial fight because he wouldn't just leave me the fuck alone to stew and get over it in my own time. He has a very outward displaying anger while I sit in silence or make snarky/passive-aggressive remarks. Needless to say, this always made for a volatile combination.

This week has been one big piss off for both of us. He's pissed about work related things, about money, about me. I'm pissed off at him, at the breakup, work, and money. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. We have fought virtually all week when he's been home, and even some when he wasn't. One night it even came down to me refusing to go to bed upstairs because I couldn't stand to be near him; that only lasted about four hours when I woke up with my back aching and needing to pee. Let me just put that into perspective for you; in the entirety of our five-year relationship, we never slept apart because of anger. This is the heavy-duty, industrial grade shit we're dealing with here. The anger runs deep here with us, and I get the feel it will for a long time. I think him moving out will drastically help, but there will still be anger, even as I transition into the next stage – depression.

Depression. I've spoken several times about my old friend, depression. He really likes to visit this time of year anyways, so that plus my fibromyalgia plus the breakup... that equals a not good time. I know that when it hits, it's going to hit me hard and fast. I won't want to work, to eat, to write, to take my meds, to shower, to even be awake. During this time I'm going to want to just become one with my bed and forget the world until it passes. This picture captures this feeling perfectly.

I mean, I'm on a daily anti-depressant for my fibro. You would think that that would take care of this whole thing and nip it in the bud. Not quite. I was on anti-depressants last time we broke up, and they didn't help. I'm sure that they help some but not entirely. Essentially what I'm saying here is that here soon, I'm going to hate the world and everything in it.

Right now, we're friends with benefits. Whether or not that's how it stands once he moves out in three weeks remains to be seen. I'm honestly not even sure if I want it to continue like that. I know that I'll be going over to his place once a week or so, since I'm working off the money he's putting towards one of my school loans so that they don't snatch my taxes again. It's nothing big, just cleaning his apartment and making dinner once a week. It'll give us time to spend together and both of us to get our shopping done and such. I really don't even know where each of us stands in the dating department. We both have profiles on OKCupid; I found out he had one by logging into mine and seeing that he was my top match, at a 95%. That was a brutal slap in the face to me. I plan on trying to make some friends in the local Fetlife community. But I really don't want to jump back into a relationship.

Launching into a new relationship means so much. So much that many people don't even think of. Not only does it mean getting to know someone new and letting them do the same to me, it means finding out how they deal with my illness, my limitations, my roller coaster libido, my family (and vise versa, because that means a lot to me), the fact that my best friend is my ex. It'll be real dating, like not living with each other and staying the night at each others houses. It's learning if I can let them see me naked yet. It's learning if it's OK to pee with the door open or not. It's learning what they like to eat, what they like to do, if they want the same things I want in life if we can laugh at the same things.

I want someone that will love me like I loved Chris.

I know that sounds just awful, but I firmly believe that in every relationship one always loves the other more. And in ours, I was that person. It was always clear that I loved him more than he loved me. I accepted it and it was fine. But now that I have to start back at square one, I want to find someone that will love me that much. I think that I deserve at least that, especially since I've dealt with so much shit that I don't deserve.

In light of the breakup, I've made some decisions about various things. I am going to repaint the trim in the living room. The entire room was a right whore to paint, so redoing ALL of it is just too much for me. So I'm going to change the blue trim to black because black goes with green and just about everything else. I am considering moving my bedroom around a little; since there are only two outlets, I only have so many ways I can move stuff, so it's gonna be a thought on the back burner for a few weeks. I'm also going to buy some white or purple Christmas lights and some black or purple sheer or gauzy fabric and make a twinkly fairy canopy thing. The bathroom and kitchen will stay the same schemes as before; I actually saw a great shower curtain and hooks at Walmart last night so when I get paid on Friday, I think I'm gonna pick them up. The sunroom, AKA Heather's room, is going to be my pirate getaway (after she moves away, of course). I've been fighting with myself about the back mudroom and what I should do with it. But I think I'll end up painting it a lavender and cream once I have everything else done. If I hadn't recently cut and dyed my hair, I'd do that as well, but it's perfect how it is. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when my roots grow out... Maybe just have mom box dye it and then save money to get my blonde highlights.

Speaking of blonde... When should I break down and admit that I have an obsession with men that have long, blonde hair? At first, I thought it was just a passive fancy. But I've quickly realized that it's a bit more than that. Here are a few pictures of my lovelies that I fancy so.

Lor'themar Theron, Regent Lord of Silvermoon

Thranduil, King of Elvenkind

Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood

Myrdias Xae'loth

Sesshomaru

Thor, son of Odin

Thranduil, King of Elvenkind

Yoko Kurama

Zechs Marquise

See? I mean, it's not hard to understand my obsession now that you see the proof. I've never dated a man with long, blonde hair; it may or may not be a passive goal of mine for my next guy.

And now time for some picture spam, just because they're all relevant.

And it's such a hard struggle.