Well That Didn't Work

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I DON'T POST OFTEN ENOUGH
Well, I'm back at the university, thank God. I'd gone back New Jersey (note the deliberate non-use of the word "home") to be with family for Thanksgiving. I was only there for three days so I basically just tried to stay off of everyone's radar. Fortunately, there were no problems so I'm a bit less nervous about again returning to the hell that is New Jersey over the school's winter recess. Speaking of which, I decided that the best way to handle being with my parents over the break will be to keep busy, thereby spending as little time in their house as possible. In that spirit, I am now officially registered for my bartending classes, YaY! I'll be able to tend bar next semester like I wanted to. Finally, I can look forward to things again...God, I hope I like physics.

Anyway, a lot's been going on since my last real post, namely the Dennis thing. I went out with him (for what I thought was a date) a few Saturdays ago; I had intended that day to be my final battle, I couldn't fight anymore after that day and I wouldn't. Long story short: he again said "no," again with little explanation.

As we left Georgetown, him back to GW and me to the nearest Metro station (which is actually located three blocks from Dennis' dorm,) something rather interesting happened. In keeping with the "condensed story telling" format, I got a mild case of hypothermia. I don't remember too much of the evening, but Dennis brought me back to AU and stayed with me all night to make sure I was ok. One thing I do remember about that night is lying to Dennis, which I had only done on one previous occasion. He'd been trying to get me to go to the hospital, but I kept refusing knowing that my family wouldn't approve and couldn't afford it. He made me take my temperature and as soon as the thermometer beeped, I turned it off. "What was it?" he asked me suspiciously. "Just over 100 degrees, don't worry." That was the lie, my temperature was, in fact, 102.7 degrees. I confessed that I'd lied to him the following morning and why. Ok, anyway, he told me I'd been a bit delusional-sometimes asking him why the hell he was in my room since he'd dumped me, sometimes believing that nothing was going on between us-so when we woke up he asked me if I knew we weren't dating or not. "Unfortunately, no, we're not." I replied rather cynically. "Although for the life of me I don't know why, but I don't have the strength to fight with you today." I closed my eyes restfully. The next thing I felt was him kissing me. It was amazing. He asked me if we could go out the following Saturday; I, of course, said yes.

He came back the next day (Monday) to pick up his GW ID, which he'd left in my room. Again, we kissed for a while, he seemed happy. That Saturday, we went on a walk and talked for a while, went to dinner, and saw an Indian dancing show being presented at GW. This time, it was he who believed the outing to be a date, unbeknownst to me. Again, kissing, holding hands, cuddling. I left GW confident and happy.

I invited him over the following Tuesday to hang out or share a romantic evening (whichever he preferred) as my roommate, Hannah, was leaving for break earlier that afternoon. He said no, so logically (hehe) I watched the clock until his Spanish class ended (4:50,) timed 45 minutes, and went down the lobby of my building. Five minutes later, there he was. I know him far too well.

He ended things.

He asked me not to fight it and prepared to leave, but stayed when I asked him to. We kind of "celebrated" the great relationship we'd once shared--i.e. we kissed (and a bit of other stuff) and reminisced (laughing and claiming certain things like " : kiss )" to forever be ours alone) until 2:00 AM. He cried, I cried.

Seeing him upset and sharing that time with him started giving me a small sense of closure, though honestly I'm nowhere close. Only understanding what happened and knowing why, after almost two wonderful years, he didn't even want to talk about not breaking up (that's how I see this--the question wasn't "were we 'getting back together' or not," it was "are we going to break up or not.") will give me a real feeling of closure. I know I'm not getting either, however, so I just have to let time work its wonders.

He told me to call him when I was ready and to make sure that I was truly ready when I did so, so that I wouldn't stop speaking to him a short time thereafter for the reason that I felt it was too painful. I don't know when that will be. I would like to talk to him (we have always had amazing conversations) and I enjoy doing so immensely, but I think it would be just too painful at this point...if he was more interested in the whole thing, it'd be easier, but he's very disinterested in me (not just romantically) all of the sudden, that really hurts. He just doesn't seem to care about me or a friendship which is truly upsetting. Boyfriend or not, we shared to great years together; we knew each other better than we knew ourselves (corny, but so true)...we shared so much emotionally, intellectually and physically that I can't imagine why I wouldn't/shouldn't care about him. I'd like to think he feels the same, but it seems he doesn't. Perhaps this is his way of dealing with this whole thing...I suppose I'll call closer to winter break, when we'll both be in New Jersey.

I still wish I understood any of what happened, I'll get over that eventually. I know I didn't do anything wrong, this was all him. I wish I knew why I was so easy to cast aside...but while Dennis made me feel great about myself (he got me to believe that I was smart, beautiful, sexy, interesting and funny) that didn't leave when he did. He did so many things for me and my growth. I'm sorry that we won't continue to grow together. I mean, we took SAT's together, got our driver's licenses together, applied to college together, took AP courses and tests together, graduated together...we matured together. I know I'll still grow though. I think I'll always love him and the time we shared, just in a different way that I did and do. I'll call him and congratulate him when he is elected President, or he'll be calling me to concede, lmao. I guess, overall, I'm just disappointed that I'm losing someone whom I care for and really that all the things we wanted to do, all the things I was not only looking forward to, but planning, will never be. True love is a greater desire, a bigger wish, than all of my daydreams and all of my goals and ambitions. I'll find it one day...*shrug.*

Anyway, moving on...I decided against moving to the 7th floor for one reason and one reason only:the girl who would be my roommate. Her name is Jenn (ya, two n's) and while she's extremely nice, I think I'd end up killing her if we were living together. I'm talkative, I admit it, but she's worse...MUCH worse. For example: if one were to say to me "Hey, Sam, would you mind turning off that light, I have a horrible headache," I'd say, "Sure, no problem?" Now, if someone were to ask Jenn the same question she'd most likely respond in a manner similar to this:

"Oh ya, sure, no problem, cuz like this one time I was getting really bad headaches like everyday and I asked my mom to take me to the doctor and she did and he said they were migraines so he prescribed this pills but they made me really, really sleepy and they weren't really helping the headaches, I mean, they were but not really so we went to a different doctor and he didn't think the headaches were migraines so he sent me to get my brain scanned at the local hospital but we couldn't seem to get an appointment to do that and then my mom got a headache dealing with the people at the hospital and when we finally got there the machine was really scary........."

And on, and on, and on, and on... I realize that was a run-on sentence, but she speaks to quickly that's how it I feel it should appear. So, I ultimately decided that as much as I love it up there, it didn't outweigh rooming with Jenn. My room now has this view:

and Hannah and I get along wonderfully; why should I trade that for a view of the McDowell dorm building and a roomie I'd probably murder? Next year though, next year is gonna be amazing! My friend Adi (from the 7th) and I "proposed" to one another. "Will you be my roommate next year?" "OMG! I was just gonna ask you that!" We're both really, really excited about it. Matt (again, Hughes 7) said he was scared that we're going to room together because we both have such dominant personalities...that'd be a problem if we didn't get along as well as we do.

I'm quite pleased that I feel pleasurable anticipation again. Not that I now have things to look forward to, but rather, I finally feel excited about them. I'd been a bit down for a while. I may be interning on the American Stock Exchange this summer--looking forward to that as well.

Wow, this entry's gotten pretty long, I guess its time to sign out. Until next time...

BTW, The glasses I need that my parents refuse to pay for are going to cost me about $264, so if anyone would like to contribute to the "Glasses for a Poor College Student Fund," let me know. : o )
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