"All these places had their moments ..."
I believe this marks the first post wherein the title was not all caps, but rather simply a direct quotation from somewhere else. I've been having a great deal of trouble finding ways to occupy myself now that I don't have classes or work or anything else going on in my life.
Before, the idea that I would have something to do once JJ came home was pretty much all that I needed to keep from completely losing my mind. Now, I take every opportunity to get out of this apartment, but I have only a few people to do things with.
The unfortunate truth is that when I moved to New York, I was injected directly into JJ's social life. His friends became my friends. I became one of their friends by association with JJ. This doesn't mean that I didn't develop bonds of friendship based on my own interactions with these people; I did.
However, when something like a break-up occurs, mutual friends do one of two things: take a side or avoid you both. Both are natural occurences. That's not to say that JJ and I are enemies; quite the contrary, as we've become closer than ever before. But our friends are now more separate than ever. So the friends he has, he hangs out with, disregarding (and not un-rightly so) my desire to spend time with them, too.
And our mutual friends who still talk to me also still talk to him, which makes it difficult to spend time without them wanting to know either everything or nothing about our situation - if everything, it becomes an irritation; if nothing, I feel ignored.
My exclusive friends are few and far between. Kent is still the only person who talks to me with any regularity. And Angi is always there for me - in Pennsylvania. This isn't to decry the value of their friendships; I'm glad I have them. But I realize that, in allowing myself to become so intertwined in JJ's friendships, I missed a great deal of opportunity to form my own.
Now, the best friend I have is, unfortunately, the most mutual of friends to us - JJ himself. As I hope you can see, this makes life difficult. I'm hoping I can find a job soon because sitting around our apartment isn't enjoyable. And it seems just as bad that every time JJ comes home, I'm sitting at my desk, further cramping his personal space.
On a sidenote, I am working through an LSAT prep book to determine whether I can even consider going back to school to study law. It's an idea I've harbored secretly for a while now, along with one or two other career alternatives. Only recently have I discussed it with anyone under the belief that it might actually be a legitimate prospect.
It's amazing how quickly your world can change. Three years ago, I knew what I wanted to do in life; two years ago, I began to dislike what I was doing with my life; last year, I began doubting whether I wanted to do it at all. And last month, I realized I was scared shitless about doing it for the rest of my life - or worse, trying and failing miserably.
Now, I know only one thing: I want to do more. I want to write. I want to talk. I want to argue and debate. I want to convince. I want to help. I want to heal. I want more out of my education; I want more out of my life. I just don't know what exactly I want.
From complete certainty without a single doubt to complete confusion and a vague sense of direction. I certainly hope this is a standard moment for every college graduate. Because I'm scared of not knowing anymore.
Three weeks ago I was inadvertently dowsed with the water that splashed off of someone else, waking them up to their complacency and giving me a brief moment of clarity that allowed me to see that I wasn't exactly clear about where I want to go and what I want to do. The only thing I do know was that, in that moment, I had only one expectation: that someone would be there to help me find my way, a companion in the darkness. And all I found was that the room we had been in was empty - my companion had run away in the darkness, guided by some other force. While I hope he makes it out safely, I have only begun to realize that, if I have any hope of getting out of here myself, I'm gonna have to do it on my own.
I've never been afraid of the dark - just what the darkness hides.
Before, the idea that I would have something to do once JJ came home was pretty much all that I needed to keep from completely losing my mind. Now, I take every opportunity to get out of this apartment, but I have only a few people to do things with.
The unfortunate truth is that when I moved to New York, I was injected directly into JJ's social life. His friends became my friends. I became one of their friends by association with JJ. This doesn't mean that I didn't develop bonds of friendship based on my own interactions with these people; I did.
However, when something like a break-up occurs, mutual friends do one of two things: take a side or avoid you both. Both are natural occurences. That's not to say that JJ and I are enemies; quite the contrary, as we've become closer than ever before. But our friends are now more separate than ever. So the friends he has, he hangs out with, disregarding (and not un-rightly so) my desire to spend time with them, too.
And our mutual friends who still talk to me also still talk to him, which makes it difficult to spend time without them wanting to know either everything or nothing about our situation - if everything, it becomes an irritation; if nothing, I feel ignored.
My exclusive friends are few and far between. Kent is still the only person who talks to me with any regularity. And Angi is always there for me - in Pennsylvania. This isn't to decry the value of their friendships; I'm glad I have them. But I realize that, in allowing myself to become so intertwined in JJ's friendships, I missed a great deal of opportunity to form my own.
Now, the best friend I have is, unfortunately, the most mutual of friends to us - JJ himself. As I hope you can see, this makes life difficult. I'm hoping I can find a job soon because sitting around our apartment isn't enjoyable. And it seems just as bad that every time JJ comes home, I'm sitting at my desk, further cramping his personal space.
On a sidenote, I am working through an LSAT prep book to determine whether I can even consider going back to school to study law. It's an idea I've harbored secretly for a while now, along with one or two other career alternatives. Only recently have I discussed it with anyone under the belief that it might actually be a legitimate prospect.
It's amazing how quickly your world can change. Three years ago, I knew what I wanted to do in life; two years ago, I began to dislike what I was doing with my life; last year, I began doubting whether I wanted to do it at all. And last month, I realized I was scared shitless about doing it for the rest of my life - or worse, trying and failing miserably.
Now, I know only one thing: I want to do more. I want to write. I want to talk. I want to argue and debate. I want to convince. I want to help. I want to heal. I want more out of my education; I want more out of my life. I just don't know what exactly I want.
From complete certainty without a single doubt to complete confusion and a vague sense of direction. I certainly hope this is a standard moment for every college graduate. Because I'm scared of not knowing anymore.
Three weeks ago I was inadvertently dowsed with the water that splashed off of someone else, waking them up to their complacency and giving me a brief moment of clarity that allowed me to see that I wasn't exactly clear about where I want to go and what I want to do. The only thing I do know was that, in that moment, I had only one expectation: that someone would be there to help me find my way, a companion in the darkness. And all I found was that the room we had been in was empty - my companion had run away in the darkness, guided by some other force. While I hope he makes it out safely, I have only begun to realize that, if I have any hope of getting out of here myself, I'm gonna have to do it on my own.
I've never been afraid of the dark - just what the darkness hides.
posted by Dave at 3:31:00 PM
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