That about sums it up.
After four years pounding away on my first blog, including all the details of my personal life and love, I have to leave it behind. You write about life. But as a part of that, you write about a guy, and marry him, and then write about him some more, and make him sound like one person, and he decides to be a different one.
The change in tone - from the post just before I Found Out, to the the post two days after Finding Out - would be pretty abrupt. And severe. And while blogging his reputation to shreds would be satisfying, I want the stories of my next romance to be in a different corner of the blogosphere. My next love will not share blogspace with the last one (Who Lost It All For 5 Minutes With Girl Whose Face Would Look Better Covered In Dog Shit). But wow, that's hard to type. And would be hard to not change to funnier, even meaner descriptions every time I typed it all out. So, I'll keep him out of it. And this is his one place in the blog.
So, in an effort to wash my hands of stale and icky, this begins my new life.
And using one of my favorite lines from a classic flick, about a girl with a broken heart who pushes past the jerk and into the arms of Luke Wilson, I bestow a name upon a new blog, and begin anew. (Editor's note: This blog used to be called I totally forgot you go here).
But if I may, I'll just go ahead and substitute Luke Wilson for some Mark Ruffalo or McDreamy type character, who is hunky.
4 comments:
Kirsten! My heart is aching for you and breaking with you. I am SO sorry! I am sick to my stomach reading this and having even the tiniest glimpse of what you are going through. I'm also freaking out about how truly similar our lives are in the weirdest ways. I took a VERY, VERY long break from my blog and you may have noticed that I erased every blog associated with MY significant other, because the stupid bastard slept with the stupid, horrid, awful girl who he was "just friends" with. We weren't married. We weren't even totally committed. It broke me apart though. I don't know your circumstances, but I'm so horrified and angry and HOLY SHIT. That moment when you KNOW, that moment is the most horrible moment and your knees buckle and you just keep thinking.. "NO, NO, NO.. it isn't REAL!" I am so sorry. If you ever need someone to talk to about it who .. you know, recently experienced the same sort of thing, please feel free. I'm sending you a very warm hug and projections for your own Darcy moment. Hang in there!
Teresa,
I wondered if it was you, on Mush's blog some time ago. I left "you" a comment there, although it would have been sincere for any woman going through this.
You described the moment perfectly. That Moment. That's the one. Then you get to hate someone, while mourning the loss of the person you had idealized them as, which never existed. It's quite a load.
I am sick that you are dealing with this. However, the weird, creepy sense of aloneness is somehow relieved a little knowing I'm not alone.
Thank you for being the first to comment on my new blog, and for just being you.
Oh, Kirsten, I am SOOOO sorry! I had no idea any of this was going on or that you were still blogging!
I'm glad you updated your other blog. I have some catching up to do.
Are you still living with Michelle?
What is there to say that hasn't already been said? My best remedy seems to be drawn-out sex-less hugs with someone of the opposite sex who you know cares for you. But it doesn't seem to be the same when it comes from Mom, Dad a sister or brother. There is a hug that I have experienced where true friends can go that makes you feel like you are floating on a cloud, where sex does not exist, just intimacy and trust. I wish this for you. It may sound weird coming from me, but when I first read this a couple of weeks ago I just wanted to run to you and hold you (not a come-on, I promise.), but that would be weird and unusual and may cause people to call the police on me. You know "P". Shorter guy, sits outside Mama B's house? I can hug him. He is a little frightened by it and we joke, but it's therapeutic for me. I know that sounds selfish, but I don't squeeze too hard, so he can still breathe. People say, and I do too, come to me with anything that I can do to help. I promise that I won't run over to you and hug you anytime soon, but I also you that whomever you can share a completely pure moment with will buoy your spirits in a very special and complete way.
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