Cycles and transformations.
18 December 2006
Alex, recently transplanted to San Francisco (likely temporarily, and possibly on to New York early next year), and I have been exchanging long, rambling emails for a few weeks. He is, and I hope he doesn't mind my saying here, in the midst of the aftermath of what is essentially his first serious breakup. He and I have quite a few similarities in the way that we look at, process, and deal with the world. It's one of the reasons that we've remained friends for the past 17+ years (we met the very first day of freshman year at NMH), and have been able to pick up conversations on a dime, after occasional months (and even years) with little to no contact. It also renders the experience of my awful breakup of a few years back relevant, insofar as sharing the little insight I may have gleaned, offering encouragement, and comparing notes, as it were.
Yesterday he asked, 'How did you get through your breakup with Stef?'
My first thought was, 'Well, I never really did.' Which isn't exactly true, but like all believable lies contains a seed of truth. Downtime in my brain does occasionally still cycle back to her, and it still hurts. And of course, talking about it all again does bring it closer to the surface.
Earlier in the day I had received Friendster's "weekly friend update", which I tend to delete without opening, to find the she had updated her profile, which I have actively avoided looking at for over two years.
And this morning, she IMed me. 'I had a super vivid dream about you on friday night it was weird.'
'My recent dreams (that I remember) have all been about things like moonshining and buying handguns.' I had in fact, woken up today from a dream involving the latter.
She's moving, to of all places, San Francisco. I didn't ask why. I didn't want to know. I think that's one of the ways I dealt with the breakup, by compartmentalising what I knew of her life, if I wasn't going to be part of it, I felt better not knowing the details. She told me anyway though, her boyfriend got a job with Apple, and I'm sure she mentioned it only as a statement of fact, but, and I don't think I'm just being overly sensitive, it doesn't take a great leap of the imagination to see how spiteful that could come across, on any number of levels.
On the other hand, it has been very nearly three years, and even if I'm never truly able to forgive her (which, symbolically, was what her dream seemed to be about), I also just shouldn't let it get to me any more. Which, really, it didn't so much. Within the first few months (read: "year") of the breakup, talking with her would send me into a multi-day spiral of hurt feelings and self-pity. Aside from a slightly bruised sense optimism, which I've been chalking up, in all things this time of year, to the dwindling days and early sunsets, the exchange really didn't affect me all that much.
In other news, it's that birthday-iest day of the year, my dad and baby brother, who'll always be my baby brother, no matter how old he gets.