Why I Fell In Love Again - Despite My Better Judgment

So, here I am, almost one whole year since my boyfriend became my ex-boyfriend.  Almost one whole year since I started this blog.  Almost one whole year since I started drinking whiskey and housing hot tamales instead of drinking green tea and picturing the houses of my dreams. And finally, here I am, almost one year from having my heart broken... and I am still heartbroken.

My ex-boyfriend and I... yes, please notice I have started using the term ex-boyfriend in lieu of the euphemistic "former boyfriend" I used to say to soften the blow... anyway, my ex-boyfriend and I have spent the past three months falling back in love with one another.  Well, at least, I was falling back in love - not that I had ever fallen out of it - I think he was playing with the idea of loving me again.  So, the two of us have been spending our days thinking of each other, sharing in each other's joys, and I have been happy.

My smile was back.  I know I sound like a cliche Taylor Swift pop song.  I felt like a Taylor Swift song. 

Every time you smile

I smile

and every time you shine

I'll shine for you

Unfortunately, like most Taylor Swift songs, this one is quickly followed by an angry song about a breakup that was seemingly Taylor's fault, but honestly, I don't blame her. 

I think Taylor Swift is just trying to find love, and be loved, and be in love.  Who would want to be known as the girl that dates guys and then get's dumped on her ass and has to write pathetic love songs about the breakups? 

Anyway, you're probably wondering why I let this happen again.  Or maybe you're not wondering, but I'm going to be writing it down here regardless, because this is blog has basically become the adult version of my seventh grade livejournal. 

I fell for him again because I wanted to.  

Yes, it's that simple. I took a class in my undergrad where my professor suggested that the best way to live a happy and healthy lifestyle is to treat yourself like you are your own best friend.  I loved the idea.  I absolutely one hundred percent cannot stress enough how much I love this idea.  Think about it...

When you're tired at the end of the week and the last place on Earth you want to go is the gym, what would your best friend say? 

I'll tell you, mine would say, "Oh, no you're not going to the gym, we're drinking wine." 

On the other side of the same coin, if I am just being lazy, my best friend is the first person to kick me in the ass and tell me to get out of bed and hit the ground running. 

So, what's my point here? My point is that as my own best friend, I knew I would be happy with my ex-boyfriend if things worked out, so I let myself fall for him all over again.  I cooked him dinner, I wore more dresses (as if that was even possible), I smiled my biggest, brightest smile for his parents even though I know they don't approve of me, and then... when I realized how pathetically in love I was with someone who wasn't giving me the same in return... I walked away.

Because, see, as my own best friend, I can't let myself look stupid.  Best friends help you decide when what you're doing is going to make you happy momentarily or when the brief happiness is not worth the consequence.  For example, I have an incredibly strong desire to wear athletic clothes to pretty much every bar I go to, and sometimes my best friend let's me.  Like if she knows we're just going to a slummy bar to drink cheap beer in a room full of middle-aged men, she totally let's me rock the nike's.  But then sometimes, she's like, "Jane, no, go change! And stop crying!"  (an ode to my over-emotional response to every given situation). 

What I'm trying to say is that it's okay that I am heartbroken again. It's okay that I made the same mistake that every best friend tells you not to make, but then you make it anyway because you just think that this time will be different.  See, the best part about treating myself like my own best friend, is that I'm not mad at myself - I'm proud of myself.  Letting him back into my life was a decision I thought would make me happy, and when it didn't, I cared enough about myself to change that decision.  

And even more importantly, I am lucky to have true best friends that love me.  That knew all along I was making a mistake and they let me make it anyway.  And yeah, they're annoyed that I'm still sad.  Hell, I'm annoyed that I'm still sad! But they love me enough, and honestly, I love myself enough, to let me be sad for a little while once more, and then to kick my ass and make sure I move on. 

Good Cheer and Appreciation

Each year on a Thursday in November, at dining room tables across the country, families gather to share a meal and give thanks.  My family is no exception.  Each year we say grace and then circle the table asking each family member what they are thankful for.  This year, however, we got to dig into dinner a little sooner than in the past.  My grandfather, the matriarch of our family, passed away in July of this summer, and now everything is different.

The onset of my childhood was based around Sunday nights.  Some of my earliest memories include sitting three across the front seat of my mother's red car that whistled as we drove to my grandfather's house once a week for dinner.  My father would post up in our kitchen, watching television on a small eight-inch screen and bid us adieu as my mom packed my sister and I into the car for family dinner.  I'm not really sure why my dad didn't come.... or maybe he did come... the memories are hazy and blend all ages together; but I sure remember the feelings of love around the dinner table at Papa's house.  Thanksgiving was Papa's holiday.  All seven of his children would make the drive, bring their children, and help prepare a delicious meal.  He was King of the Krols and no one thought otherwise.  Since my grandfather's passing, my mother's family has been at odds.  That's what happens in fragile families.  If the anchor that held all ships at bay is lost, they are carried by wind and see in different directions.  This year, Thanksgiving dinner will be enjoyed my mother, my aunt, her husband, and myself.  A small, intimate gathering, still inundated by feelings of love.

What I am most thankful for this year is a hidden lesson that I have found in my grandfather's passing.  My mother, brother, and sisters are a beautiful exception to the rule.  I am one of six children born to my father, but only one of two born to my mother; thus, the four eldest of my family are my half siblings, but I whole love them.  When my father passed away, it was truly a tragedy.  He lost his battle to lung cancer five days before Christmas 1999.  What I have learned in the fourteen years since my father's passing, however, is that my siblings had the option to run.  My dad was the anchor that kept my family at bay.  He was our common thread, our home base, and our gravitational pull.  Without him there, what glue did we have to hold us together?  To this day, I am not sure.  I was seven at the time that we lost my father, and from that point forward it never occurred to me that my sisters and brother could have stepped out of my life forever; that my mother could have decided not to love them as her own, not to see my nieces and nephews as her grandchildren....but luckily for me, that was not the case.  My family loves harder, deeper, and with more vigor than any family I have ever known.  It isn't about having a shared relative or a thoroughbred blood line that makes two people family; it is love.  It is values.  It is knowing that losing that other person would be losing a part of yourself.  At seven years old, I was not old enough to know who I loved, but I knew who loved me.  I am so beyond lucky to have been born into the family that I have. I have an incredible, awe-inspiring mother, three beautiful sisters, and a strong, handsome brother that care about me more than words can say, and for that I am undoubtedly eternally grateful.

I pray for those who are not surrounded by the same love and affection that I have had the fortune of indulging in over my last 21 years on this earth.  As for those who are as fortunate, I pray that they take that luck and transform it into good cheer and appreciation for our world and the people who create it.