That time when things got personally awkward

There are times when writing with a certain level of maturity is beyond me and I run the risk of making a fool of myself in ways I just don't care for.  The past 2 weeks of silence happened because I just didn't feel like writing, I just didn't want to think, and I just could not be sincere without facing certain consequences.  I'm here now, I'm writing, and I guess it's time for me to face the reality that, whether I like it or not, I have to write about things that have been... bothering me.

On my mother's birthday I met my then-boyfriend of 2 years and a bit, in the knowledge that we were going to break up, that he was going to start off the process, and that I was fine with it because it was time to admit defeat: we no longer worked as a couple and could no longer keep trying.

I now realise there were a few things I wasn't prepared for.  I wasn't prepared to hear that he had long since given up trying to try to make things work between us, when I had done my best right to the end to try to make 'us' work.  I hadn't prepared myself for the fact that now he would be talking to other girls, friends or otherwise, when before he seemed fine with cutting himself off from all but his closest friends.  I hadn't prepared myself for the moment when I would realise that, despite how far into each other's heads we are, he no longer loved me.

This is where I say I no longer love him, and where you believe me, and where we move on to something else.  But.  But.  As a horribly caring person, I find it impossible to stop caring.  About anything, really.  It's a drawback.  I should have developed into a heartless bitch given what sensitivity and caring got me as a child, but that just didn't happen.  So instead, I care.  This is an infinitely bad thing when I'm going through the process of getting over a break up.  I care about that person's well-being, I care about their life, I care because I put time and effort into that person and it's actually very difficult to let that go.  You'll notice that I haven't used the word 'love'.  That's because what I feel is different to what I used to feel back when I was in love.  Now I just feel the same attachment I feel for my best friends, 'just' being an understatement, because I love my best friends dearly.

Part of the problem I feel bothered about all this is that I can't actually be a best friend to him, just as he can't be a best friend to me.  Forget the usual 'you've seen each other naked, you can't be friends after that' litany, because that's not the problem.  The problem is censorship.  I have to censor everything I say to him - indeed, to anyone I've ever had a break up with - and be careful what I ask and how I react.  How inappropriate is it for me to ask about his dating life? Extremely, which is the same answer to 'how inappropriate is it for him to talk about his dating life'.  If there were things we didn't do together for specific reasons, and now we both are doing them, it's a potential bone of contention that needs to be kept buried.  In every conversation we now have, it feels like there's a big fat elephant in a neon pink tutu and a neon orange headband sitting between us while humorously trying to play a trumpet.

And of course all of this is rather irritating, because we were both happy to end our relationship and happy to remain friends, but the reality and truth is that we can't be proper, honest to goodness friends.  The past gets in the way, doesn't it? And there's nothing to do about that but lump it, and get on with things.

So here I am getting on with things, and having got that off my chest, I can get on with bringing you my thoughts on any subject under the sun in other posts. :)

Sincerely,
Macs

Everyone gets a little crazy sometimes - 1

There are different ways you can tell that someone is kind of, maybe, just a little, teensy weensy bit gaga.  Cuckoo.  Plemplem, as we like to say in my family.  Batty.  There are many reasons people exhibit this, uh, hm... behaviour.  Some are born mad, some become mad, and some have madness thrust upon them [fellow literature freaks, can you spot the reference?].  Some of us exhibit madness on occasion, because sometimes certain circumstances just plain drive us up the wall.  We're going to take a look at some of these situations, along with a few things that seem to be typical symptoms of their corresponding craziness, over a number of posts.

Number 1 Crazy Behaviour: Road Rage

Someone overtakes recklessly, pulling into the opposite lane completely and putting the pedal to the metal to increase speed so as to effectively and quickly overtake the poor slow turtle that tickled their speed itch.  You're on that opposite lane, and they're heading straight for you if they don't manage to pull back into their lane as soon as friggeting possible.  Your heart rate accelerates drastically, your eyes fly open, you stomp on the brakes, blare your horn, become horrifyingly aware that you're going to die, and gabble 'Ohgodohgodohgod' or 'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck'.

And the reckless driver pulls into his own lane, successfully overtaking the turtle while reducing your life span by 20 years, increasing your number of grey hairs significantly, and making you a candidate for a heart transplant in 30 years time.  Now that you're sure you're not tasting metal, the madness begins.  The bastard! THE BASTARD! HE ALMOST KILLED ME! I COULD HAVE DIED! SON OF A BITCH! ROT IN HELL YOU MOTHERCHUCKING MORON! WHO THE BLOODY BUGGERY GAVE YOU YOUR LICENSE?! MAY YOU DIE HORRIBLY WHEN YOUR CAR BARRELROLLS! AAAAARRRRRGH!!!!!!!

And more thought of that ilk rampage around in your brain and out of your mouth until you eventually catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror.  Rabid animals the world over give you a round of applause at the froth bubbling on your lips and the insane look in your wild eyes.  As you thump the steering wheel while revelling in livid rage, you catch a glimpse of a passing pedestrian's face.  WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?! KEEP WALKING ASSHOLE! And the person breaks into a power walk.  You reach the end of your swearing vocabulary, so you make up new words and phrases as you carry on your tirade.


Eventually your ranting and raving bubbles down into mumbling and muttering.  You arrive at your destination and grumble about crazy, suicidal, homicidal drivers, for another 5 minutes.  The moment food or drink appears on your horizon, you forget all about your brush with death.


______

This one goes out to one of my best friends, whose passenger road rage is always an odd surprise.  You know who you are.  ;)


Sincerely,

Macs


Ps. Hey folks, feel free to add whatever sweet little word you use instead of 'crazy' to the list. :)