mood: strong
music: Made For You – OneRepublic

“But you know what happens after you look into the abyss? After you realize how easy it would be to let yourself be swallowed by that dark, unfathomable unknown… And after it looks back into you? One thing. One thing then becomes very clear. You figure out pretty fast that no matter how hard it is, or how impossible it gets… You don’t… You can’t… You shouldn’t ever give up.”
- Dick Grayson, Nightwing #128

Today is August 3rd. On this day last year, Mark broke up with me. It was tragic. It was unexpected. It, and the day that followed seamlessly, was the worst day of my life.

But today, that day seems like a lifetime ago. Saying that I’m healed is a complete understatement. The truth is that I’m better. And not merely better than I was at my lowest point, but better than I was before. Better than I’ve ever been.

My demons stopped chasing me the moment I stopped running. The moment I stopped trying to get better, trying to prove that I was getting better, trying to move on, trying to find emotional stability — the moment I truly accepted the way things were and saw a truth that I had been blindly fighting against the whole time (the moment when he said “You’re no better than her” — how could anyone who really deserved me say such a horrible and untrue thing to me?), that whether or not it would work out eventually — well, maybe I didn’t need it to.

Amanda: you got over it pretty quickly now that i think about it

It’s all about willpower. Like Dick said, it’s so easy to give in to depression, to feelings of helplessness, to the belief that there is nothing left for you and that you will never get better. It’s easy — but aren’t you worth more than that? I know I am worth more than the “easy” path. I know I am worth than the tears, the burn marks, the hopelessness. I am worth more than a damn relationship.

I’d be lying if I said the feelings were gone. When I feel that strongly about anything, those feelings don’t simply disappear. But what’s important is that those feelings aren’t killing me anymore. I’m not lonely. I’m not trying to get back with him. I’m not trying on anyone new. I don’t want to try anymore; it’s only ever given me trouble. I don’t want to depend on someone else for happiness anyway. If something comes along, then sure, I’ll give it a shot. But I feel like I’ve spent half of my life chasing after people, and I’m tired of how that seems to always turn out.

The other day, at the airport, I joked with Katie that maybe our planes had been delayed for some higher purpose; maybe I was going to meet my soulmate. Then I laughed and said nonchalantly, “Naw. Already met him. Didn’t work out.”

And honestly, that’s how I feel about it. Yeah, it’s tragic. Yeah, it’s a huge part of me. But it doesn’t have to consume me. And so I don’t let it.

And so in reality, this day doesn’t really mean much to me. All it represents for me is how far I’ve come in this past year, and how much I’ve grown from the chick who cried and cried and couldn’t fall asleep because she couldn’t comprehend what had gone wrong in a great relationship.

I’m damn proud.

mood: pleased
music: Thank Me Now – Drake

I kept trying to explain and he kept shouting until I began to cry from frustration. Then he felt remorseful, which was so unlike him and endearing that I almost changed my mind and said yes. But then I imagined a lifetime of having to cry to get him to be kind, and I went back to no again.
- Juliet, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

I came across this in the middle of the book and was floored by it. It’s not even particularly creative, or profound, or beautifully phrased.

But it so accurately sums up so much of how I’ve felt in the past two or three years, and how I feel toward a lot of my friends’ relationships.

Mark and I used to fight about once a month. We fought about Jayne, about money, about standing up to my roommate, and about Brian. Er, I think that might have actually been like…it. Which makes sense, I suppose. I liked being with him because we didn’t clash very often. But I need to make one thing clear before any assumptions about the nature of our relationship (and our friendship as well) are made: I can’t take arguing. I can’t. I can’t ever express or explain my feelings correctly when I’m caught up in the moment, I can’t rationalize them, I almost never, ever win arguments, and I always get very caught up and frustrated and upset in them. I can’t handle it. I’m a peacekeeper. Whenever things get bad, whenever people get loud, my first instinct is to ask them to calm down so we can talk about things quietly. And if that doesn’t work, I try my best to explain what I mean, because I’m not that much of a doormat. And if that only makes them more argumentative, then I always ask that we just agree to disagree. And if they truly refuse to accept our differences, then usually I’ll just back down and take one for the team, since it clearly seems to mean so much to them to win. It’s not always the best way to live, but it works, it gets me by.

Mark got used to my crying after a while. At first, I think it made him feel really bad, and it made him rethink what he was saying and made him realize how horrible he was responsible for making me feel. I have this terrible feeling that it stopped affecting him, though. It’s not that I think he doesn’t care, anymore, just that he acts like me crying is more of a “Oh that’s just Elaine being weak and letting her emotions get to her again” rather than “Oh crap, how did I just screw up and unintentionally hurt someone important to me so badly?” (To be fair, Mark and I haven’t argued for like half a year, so I also can’t assume his attitude toward me during an argument would still convey this kind of feeling to me.)

Part of me really hates the thought of this. But another part of me understands that this is necessary to deal with me at all. Part of me realizes that the only other friend who I haven’t felt guilty for crying to is Alex. Part of me just always blames myself for crying because it’s freaking annoying, and much more for me than for whoever it is trying to comfort me (if anyone), trust me! But that’s part of what got to me this past fall, which can only be summed up as the time in which Mark “was a dick” to me (his words!), that he didn’t seem sensitive at all to how I was hurt by like freaking everything that was happening.

I was so distraught by how sad and mad I was making him feel, but he never seemed to falter when I was crying and pleading and raising my voice in anger. Which, as I hope you know, Elaine almost never resorts to. Ever. I know I’m not blameless; his beef was about my words not matching my intentions, the blame of which I will take gracefully. I kept conceding, though. You’ve gotta give me that, at least.

No matter how doormatty people think I am, it’s not in me to take that for an extended period of time. It’s not. I lasted two months before I went batshit crazy and was just like, “Okay. That is it. If his attitude does not change by the time we go back to school, then fuck this. I’ve tried my best, but I refuse to live a life of subjugation like this. I refuse to be constantly, actively upset by someone I love and who allegedly loves me back, platonically or otherwise.” I’m glad things did get better by the time we got back to school, though. Well, “glad” is an understatement, really. Eternally grateful is more like it.

Diana got used to my crying a long time ago, but I never knew whether to attribute that to her being used to it or to Diana just being her usual unemotional self.

Jayne and I argued, too, but never with the intensity to which Mark always took it, even though we probably had way bigger differences. And way back when we were together, we didn’t really argue at all until the very end, and then again when I got with Mark later. But that was different, because it was us arguing that made me think, “Maybe this isn’t going to work out.” I think those were my exact words, actually. I was too immature to even consider compromising (although to be fair, I’d wanted to break things off two months prior but was convinced by her to give her a second chance), however hopeless it may have been since our outlook on relationships was nothing alike. I don’t think I cried until after the relationship was over (except at the unofficial beginning, maybe, when we were just kinda together but didn’t really intend for any officialness or long-term-ness), though. I cried a lot when we were reunited at the end of the summer, and I felt horrible for making her sad and felt so mixed up about wanting and not wanting to be with her. But I never cried in frustration. Is that a good thing or a bad thing, do you think? Is it better that Mark impassioned me enough to bring me to tears, or is it better that Jayne never upset me to the point that I would cry from frustration and hurt?

They say love is putting up with a person. But there’s a very thin line between putting up with a person and not cutting yourself off from someone who does you more harm than good. Too often, I see so much more of the latter than the former. And I’m hardly innocent of that. Anyone who comes to me about their relationships knows that I always ask them if the pain is worth it. If it is, then fine. I remember what it was like to just suck it up and deal with the wounds because that pain was worth all the happy times. But if it’s not, then why are you staying? Is it just because you’re too terrified by the prospect of losing them because you truly think they’re wonderful and amazing to be with? Or is it just that they have become so integrated into your life that you can’t even imagine life without them beside you, despite all the pain they cause you?

One of those situations is love.

The other is pathetic dependency.

And trust me, I’ve been there, too, though very briefly.

Doesn’t make it right, though. And doesn’t mean that I will restrain myself from telling my friends this when they are in pain. Because I hate seeing people upset constantly because of one thing or person. That shouldn’t happen. Ever. But the human heart is too fragile and complicated to be able to see things that simply.

I wish people were stronger.

I hardly read older blog or journal entries anymore. The really early stuff, all the years of pining and fantasizing and angsting is just way too immature and silly and inane to sit through anymore. Then, there’s like a year and a half’s worth of stuff that’s just too…blissfully and ignorantly happy for me to handle now that I know how it turned out. Then, I really can’t read through the heartbroken stuff because I’m both affected and unaffected by it at the same time. I used to read over old stuff all the time, even every night before I went to sleep.

I feel like there’s this odd wall now, in my mind, between this cynical happiness (how I was meant to be, my mind whispers) and all that raw emotion of those years. I’m not avoiding them (I know this because I can definitely read them and not be emotionally disturbed, I just don’t really enjoy reminiscing), but I don’t really like delving in them, either. I wouldn’t take back my experiences because without them I wouldn’t be who I am today, but sometimes, I dunno.

I’m reading Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge, which, like what seems like all of the bestselling books that I pick up, discusses the futility of marriage. In fact, an alarming plurality of the stories that we receive for the Berkeley Fiction Review are about adultery, too.

At first, I was amazed at how all these authors deconstructed marriage.

But then you start thinking that maybe there’s a reason that adultery is such a prevalent theme in books that become bestsellers. Maybe people relate to these stories the most. Maybe the authors experienced it. Maybe the authors saw it everywhere around them.

I hate that.

I hate the thought of the ultimate form of love and commitment being banal or even leading to such atrocities of moral behavior. I have always hated that. It made me swore off of marriage at a very young age. When Erin’s parents (who had created what seemed like the perfect, wholesome American family) separated during my junior year of high school, it was like a stab in the heart for me. As if I needed any more confirmation that long-term commitment is an impossibility (five out of my nine friends at home have parents who are separated or divorced).

I’ve always had a very cynical perception of the idea. When Mark spoke of being together on a long-term basis after the breakup, it wasn’t his wish that was shocking — it was my enthusiasm towards that idea.

I’m not quite sure anyone really gets it and I’m very paranoid that people only think I’m bluffing that I’m not that type, but it really is not a very Elaine thing.

I may have a tendency to get lost in my infatuations, but I’ve always feared and disliked discussing long-term things. When Mark and I talked, I was still nervous about that kind of bond, but it’s a testament to how madly in love I was that I legitimately wanted that life for myself, even though it went against a lot of what I stood for. That was the magic, right? That we both wanted the same thing — something so simple, yet so unimaginably complicated and unexpected from both of us.

But the magic is over, and I’ve lost a lot of my fire. It’s not a bad thing, because that kind of passion is dangerous to live with. But I’m not sure I believe in love anymore, much less relationships. Lately, I’ve even wondered if my attraction towards people is fading. Maybe it’s a part of growing up? I don’t know. It all just seems very empty and useless. Why waste time chasing anybody when I can spend it watching cartoons and reading? Why waste time thinking about anybody when I can spend it brainstorming about the next scene in my superhero story? Why waste time checking out that hot guy who just walked by or the buxom lady at the register when I can spend it paying attention to my friends instead?

We all adapt and cope in our own ways, I suppose. I feel healed and damn good every day, but there’s no denying that a large part of who I was has died. Usually, I focus on how fantastic that is, that I’m no longer meek Elaine who didn’t know how to speak to strangers and who demanded no respect. Sometimes, though, I think it’s healthy to also address the fact that I’m also much less of a believer.

In anything.

This is not where I saw myself in the summer before my junior year. But then again, what the hell did I see? Some stupid fantasy of another summer of blissful romance? Some silly notion of things coming together? Some dumb faith in the power of things that I was so sure existed?

Mark gave me faith in a lot of things that I wasn’t certain about.

But I don’t need him for that now. Instead, I go to fanfiction. Nobody really understands exactly how and why I immerse myself in this stuff so completely. Maybe it’s akin to how some girls love watching chick flicks, no matter how ludicrous and implausible they seem. The love, the tragedy, the emotion, the power of execution — it makes a lot of things come alive, things that we seem to see less and less of as we grow older. It’s so easy to lose yourself in it, and the feeling of being consumed by words has always delighted me to no end. And skilled authors — they make you really believe.

And it’s a good feeling, in those hours when I’m immersed in some getting-together story, some established-couple story (it doesn’t matter), I truly do believe that relationships work. That love is possible. That love can last and remains alive forever. That “‘Til death do us part” refers to more than the physical proximity of two people.

Maybe this is just a phase. Maybe it’s not. Who cares? I’ve never been one to have much faith in human nature, anyway. (It’s why I’m so paranoid about everything from people stealing my things to making promises regarding the heart.) As long as it doesn’t affect my happiness, it’s all good.

And I’m happy.

So it’s all good.

Just interesting.

What a year it has been! I’d like to document my journey in several different parts…

Step 1: Setting Goals
“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”
- Victor Frankl

I’m going to cut six inches off of my hair (I would dye it if I had the time before Berkeley!) and curl it often. I’m going to start dressing more tomboyish half the time and girlier the other half of the time. I’m going to wear concealer and powder and lipgloss and ponytails. I’m going to introduce myself, I’m going to be someone that people will want to be friends with. I’m going to be a motherfucking double major, even if both of my majors are cake. I’m going to drink, and I’m going to drive on freeways. I’m going to paste pictures of hot girls on my walls, alongside Transformers and Yu-Gi-Oh! posters. I’m going to joke more and laugh less, I’m going to touch more and be less unapproachable. I’m going to study more and complain less. I’m going to blog on-time and go back to journaling. I’m going to remember more and forgive less. I’m going to be more careful, more paranoid, more fun, and more uninhibited.
- xdelight, August 15th, 2009

After Mark broke up with me, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. That night, he told me that we both needed a new beginning at Berkeley this year. At first, I fought that, unable to comprehend why a new beginning was necessary when we were obviously both so distraught by having to be apart. But after the initial shock and disgust at my own dependent state, I decided that enough was enough. It was time for another major change. The Elaine that I was couldn’t be happy without Mark as an integral part of my life. So I got rid of her. I made a lot of changes, purposely changing a lot of things that were vital to being Elaine. My disgust at alcohol, my embarrassment at being a fangirl about boy things, my fear of trying new things, my lack of faith in my ability to accomplish a lot academically, my nervous wistfulness about being able to pull off neither tomboyish nor trendy looks, my laziness in going all the way with doing my hair and doing my makeup, my propensity to be really uncomfortable and shy in social situations, especially around strangers, my reluctance to face and conquer my fears, etc. I fixed it all.

I’ve noted before that I’m rather obsessed with self-improvement. People just don’t realize how much of your character is truly in your control. Yeah, there’s nature involved, and yeah, throw some nurture in there, too, but seriously? The only thing worse than someone who doesn’t see and understand their own flaws is someone who sees them and decides not to do anything about them.

Step 2: Setting Goals in Motion & Fighting Obstacles

And I did it. I really did. I got here, and the first day, I conquered my shyness and fear of meeting people and just walked into the hall and met everyone and honestly was just…myself! And boy did that do wonders. I’m still amazed, honestly, at how well just being myself worked out. And day by day, I just become more and more thankful for getting the opportunity to get to know and to befriend these wonderful people.
- xdelight, November 18th, 2009

There have certainly been ups and downs, but here I am, at home after a successful year, and I still believe that what I said that day holds true. And I know that I have been successful. Not only do I feel it in my bones, in my heart, every day, when I wake up in the morning, but it’s the only explanation for a number of things: the way Mark tells me that he’s so proud of me whenever I comfort him and give him advice, the way Diana notices my change in demeanor after spending five minutes with me in public, the way my Berkeley friends say that they can’t imagine me shy or introverted at all, the way people frown in bemusement and nod as if they understand when I tell them about how I used to be, the way Katie (Parr) told me that I was the star copy editor even though I’d only worked at the Daily Cal for three months, the way my parents asked me if I knew every single person in my dorm building since I kept recognizing and making conversation with people in the elevator.

Once you set your mind to it, you can change yourself. And once you change yourself, you grow into it. Sometimes, this is a really frightening thing, because it feels like losing your grip on who you truly are. Sometimes it feels like you are trying too hard to fit in, sometimes you feel incompetent, sometimes you feel like a poser.

But you’re not.

There’s nothing wrong with striking your own path. But just because you are attached to your eccentricities (because if a love for staying up past dawn reading stories that make love seem real, a belief that fanfiction authors are often way more talented than published authors, an affinity towards action cartoons born out of a fear of gore and an attachment to epic stories that stems from a wild, untamed imagination, and a need to be doing at least three things at once at all times don’t qualify as eccentricities, then I don’t know what does) doesn’t mean you need to bury them in order to find acceptance, to find a place in society. They always tell you to be yourself and to not listen to what other people say, but the world isn’t so black and white. You can do both! And you have to start by embracing those eccentricities. Wear them, broadcast them, tell people about them. Whatever you do, just don’t hide them. Hiding things only makes people miserable. That’s why I don’t really have any secrets, because I think keeping heavy things to yourself is overwhelming in a way that nothing needs to be. But by integrating your eccentricities and your non-conformity with a simple, socially acceptable personality, you can be yourself and be able to function in society. People will accept your weirdness if you don’t let it overwhelm who you are.

When I went to Berkeley, I didn’t fit myself into a cookie cutter. I fixed the parts of me that stuck out too much, the parts that made both me and the people around me uncomfortable. We’re all unique. Embrace it, but don’t let it impede you in your life. I swear too much, make too many immature sexual innuendos, act like a child and increase this effect by liking things made for children, will often get overexcited about small things (I meant to change this after I suspected that some friends were getting really exasperated by it, but Mark told me that this is one of the most endearing things about me, and I thought that was very nice and it did say a lot about my character and my view on life with the whole finding joy in the little things and all)… But that’s all okay, because I make it work. You should never change yourself for other people, but if the way those people perceive you is seriously affecting YOU, then you SHOULD change it.

You are always in control of your own happiness.

Hanging out with different groups of different people taught me so much. First of all, gay guys are melodramatic beetches. Second of all, cool people are self-absorbed and too flawed to be worth the trouble. Third of all, girly girls are insecure little bitches. Fourth of all, the only people really worth getting close to are those who are laid back. And fifth of all, even when you wish they were different, sometimes you just need to accept people for who they are. Everyone is beautiful in his or her own way.

Step 3: Fight for What You Believe In and Learn From Your Mistakes
Mark and I had a two-month long post-breakup period after we went back to school. Miraculously, we became even closer than we’d ever been when we were together. It was a really hard time for both of us, but it was also very magical. There is something about waking up to someone smiling at you and telling you that you are his soulmate that is unforgettable. I forget a lot of things, but I’ll remember that feeling for the rest of my life. Anything less is inadequate and a waste of my time and energy.

Then, when that period ended, everything suddenly fell apart. It was devastating to be accused of being a self-centered and inconsiderate drunkard by the guy who had told you that he believed there was nobody better for him, especially when you had put up with so much from his front. It was utterly agonizing to have to deal with that betrayal of friendship while also dealing with the heartbreak and hopelessness that accompanied the entrance of a new player in the game. I learned a lot from that horrible time. I learned a lot about the power of friendship, and I learned that I had made good friends who were there for me in times of need. What I didn’t realize is that some of those friendships were made strong with that dependence and didn’t last when it became clear that I didn’t need any help anymore. But I know that now. And I’m okay with it. It’s neither a gift nor a curse, just a fact of life.

I fought for what I believed was the truth, for what I believed was important — intentions, not actions — and when it was clear that that would not lead to my happiness, I surrendered. I accepted the blame, I accepted the hateful words, I read the hateful words before I went to sleep every night and willed myself to not make the same mistakes ever again. I let him break me, because I figured that was the only way we would ever get anywhere, the only way anything would ever change.

It’s easy to say “Why would you stay?” when you’re watching it play out in front of you. “What good is he in your life?” “You need to get out of there.” “It’s not worth it.” “He’s not worth it.”

But what’s more important is realizing that things aren’t ever that simple. If things were so black and white, people would get themselves out of those situations.

I know now why I had to go through that. I had to go through that so I could understand my friends’ pain and difficulties in situations like these. I had to go through that so I wouldn’t be blind to their quandary, to the reason behind their indecision. Everything happens for a reason (or as Katie says, everything works out in the end). That happened so that I could be a better friend in the future. Just as I acted the way that I did after breaking up with Jayne so that I wouldn’t be able to blame Mark for acting the way he did when November came around. When life gives you lemons, you have to realize that those lemons are really going to come in use when your neighbor comes around next week begging you for lemonade. Something good comes out of every situation — you just have to see it!

Step 4: Stumble Once You’re Up, Because That’s Life
Things changed between Mark and me over Winter Break. After one really big argument, everything kind of changed. I don’t know what I did. All I know is that I apologized for everything to him the first week of the year, and then things seemed to be totally different by the time we went back to school. He started being really nice and talking about how great of a best friend I was, and all this stuff that seemed so ridiculous after the whole fall semester fiasco that I seriously wondered if this was some twisted way of faking friendship and punishing me for what I’d done wrong. But to my knowledge, our friendship had just taken another turn, for the better. (Recently, he told me that I changed over Winter Break and his views on me changed because instead of seeing me as pathetic and trying to get over him and trying to fit in with people that I didn’t jive with, I was stronger and did things just because I wanted to. I don’t agree with this assessment, but I understand how it would propel the change in how he treated me.) Soon, our friendship escalated to what it was supposed to be — a bond that had held fast and survived through disaster after disaster, a bond that we both turned to in times of crisis. It’s not a drop-everything-to-put-them-absolutely-first friendship. But it doesn’t need to be. It’s a I-know-you-are-here-for-me-no-matter-what friendship. Ya know, we haven’t fought since the time he told me I was being no better than Jayne and I decided that there is no way that someone who deserved my dedication would ever see me in that light. He noted the other day that this is probably the longest we’ve gone without arguing. Good or bad? Maybe just more mature.

The beginning of Spring Semester brought on a lot of jaded feelings. I suffered a relapse in regards to the whole heartbreak thing, and to make matters worse, my closest friends seemed intent on isolating me. People that I treasured were talking behind my back, people that I loved weren’t standing up for me. My belief of real, worth-it love was fading. My faith in the power and tenacity of friendship was dying. They both seemed like complete farces that I’d fallen for. I became more cynical than ever, sinking into myself slowly, scrabbling for a hold the cliff of happiness to which I used to have such easy access. I escaped to the library, buried myself in writing my superhero story, lost myself in watching Justice League and reading amazing fanfiction. I saw, once again, that I was the only person that I could ever rely on, and I didn’t even trust myself that much, especially after I betrayed myself and broke after the whole Mark thing. Life wasn’t bad, and the times that I smiled were true, but it wasn’t worth much, either.

I am so proud of myself for all the headway I have made this year, but is this how it’s just going to be? You learn, you improve yourself, you get some things you work for, you get let down by some things but learn how to be happy with the things that you still have, and then you just get it all taken away from you so that you have to repeat the process all over again, minus everything that you’ve worked to keep in your life? Is death the only end to this cycle?

…

But maybe it doesn’t matter how much you improve yourself. Maybe life just never runs out of things to throw at you.
- xdelight, February 17th, 2010

Step 5: Get Yourself Back Up Again
“It’s enough to make you bitter, but I’ve never been a quitter, and I’m not nearly done.”
- Seven Brides for Seven Brothers

But I don’t stay down. I don’t ask for pity; I don’t want it. I’m too attached to being a happy person to get bogged down for too long. And so I got myself back up. If people wanted to be bitches, fine. If people wanted to make ridiculous demands, sorry, but Elaine doesn’t take that crap anymore. Elaine fights for what she wants when she believes that she truly deserves it and that you have no right to take that away from her.

And I believed that I deserved happiness, and that nobody had any right to take that away from me. In fact, I decided that nobody had the power to take that away from me at all, and so then I was happy. Not superficially, but truly. In the midst of a battlefield of chaos, heartbreak, struggle, and betrayal, I found peace. I found it, simply because I wanted to find it.

“Blame nobody. Expect nothing. Do something.”
- Lloyd Carr

And suddenly all those hours spent in the library weren’t an escape from having to deal with the real world — they were just times of peace spent working and rewarding myself for that work with things that I loved. And the stories became beautiful testimonies to the power of love. And the cartoons and comics became a new world to explore. And the writing became something into which I could pour my soul. And the library became less of a shelter and fortress and more of a home.

And I woke up every day, happy to be alive and excited to see what the day would bring me. I got exponentially closer to the friends who were true and worth it, and I gave the less dependable friends what they gave me and no more. I dished out advice to people who needed it, I ignored people who weren’t worth my time, I made people laugh, I felt so grateful to be alive and to be in such an amazing city at such an amazing school. I only let myself be upset about things, big or small, for a maximum of half an hour. Life is beautiful, so why waste it being upset?

“You find beauty in ordinary things. Do not lose this ability.”
- A fortune cookie that I’ve received twice. I think it’s a sign.

I’m still living in this stage right now, and it’s been wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. I even set alarms when I get upset, and I tell myself that I need to be over whatever’s annoying me by the time the alarm goes off. Sounds weird, but works like magic. I can do anything that I set my mind to.

And I’m ready to improve even more this summer and emerge as an Elaine even more in control, even more fun, even more interesting, and even more helpful.

mood: pleased
music: I’m Gonna Find Another You – John Mayer

I’m proud of myself. It’s a strange feeling, encountering things that might have upset you before and indulging in annoyance or anger or scorn for a good five minutes before putting your foot down and solving, confronting, or just dealing with the problem. But it feels really good. It’s not like I’m being aggressive all over the place, but I’m definitely fighting back. The important thing is picking your fights, though. It takes some strategy to show people that hey, look, you can’t just step all over me.

That’s new.

So is the socializing, outgoing thing. Dana asked to see my “25 Facts About Myself” note on Facebook (it was a fad around this time last year) and said that most of it still applied, except for one of facts, which was “I really suck at making friends.” Hill and Katie were both like WTF? too. That still blows my mind. They cannot fathom the idea that I was ever socially uncomfortable (not quite awkward but not quite fitting in, either) or shy. I won’t deny that it feels good to know that I’ve come so far that my closest friends here (some of the greatest people I have ever met) can’t even reconcile Old Elaine with the Elaine they know.

The important thing about this, though, is that I haven’t lost myself in the process.

On a kind of related note, I have exceeded my goal for this school year! I left Irvine with the intention of having a hundred new Facebook friends by the time I went home for the summer. I’m not stupid; I know it doesn’t mean that I have a hundred new friends. What it does mean, though, is that I met a hundred new people over the span of this school year. I have a feeling that I have never done that before. So, improvement.

I didn’t realize until this year how obsessed I really am with self-improvement. I mean, I love helping friends and guiding them and stuff. I guess that applies to myself, too. Amanda said that I should be an inspirational speaker if things don’t work out with the whole publishing thing. Maybe I should write self-help books instead.

Anyway, the reason I’m thinking about all of this (in the middle of Dead Week, which is this entire week we get off of school to study for our finals; professors and GSI’s are allowed to hold review sessions but are not supposed to introduce any new materials) is that I just had interesting conversations with both Amanda and Mark.

I’ve always been an independent spirit. That’s not to say that I don’t need anyone — it just means that I definitely need a degree of independence to survive. But this year, I’ve become a different kind of independent spirit.

Life gave me a magnificent gift when it gave me Mark. I learned how to strive for what I wanted, I learned how to work with someone, I learned how to compromise, I learned how to trust someone, I learned how to dedicate myself to the bettering of another person.

I learned to love, wholly and completely. I learned what it was like to actually want to be bound to someone. I learned what it felt like to want all those things that I had once scorned. I learned what it felt like to be hurt by loneliness — something that had never quite hit me before, because I was always self-relying enough to deal with a lack of company.

But in a strange, twisted way, having that beauty taken away was magnificent in its own way. Falling from a great height enabled me to rise and be reborn from the ashes as a faster, stronger, and so much more kickass person. I know it’s true. Of course I know that I’m very far from perfection. I still have a lot of issues. But I’ve always accepted that about myself and been very eager to find ways to overcome and correct those flaws. I continue to aim to do so every day.

Mark said that amidst his relationship problems, he’s become jealous of me and my freedom and independence.

What a loaded thing to say to your ex!

It makes me proud, though. It’s good to know that I’m not just fooling myself about this whole freedom and independence thing. It’s good to know that it shows that I’m satisfied with my life and the way things are. I told Dana that John Mayer’s “Perfectly Lonely” was like my anthem and she thought that was so depressing. I said simply, “Why? I don’t need someone to be happy. If they come along and we work well together, awesome, but if they don’t, that’s fine, I think that I could live the rest of my life like this.” My feelings for Mark? I’m honestly not sure where I stand when I really think about it — and so why bother? It’s a waste of emotions and time and thought to ponder complicated things like that when the sun is shining, stories are waiting to be read, episodes waiting to be watched, food is waiting to be eaten, and people are waiting to be engaged in conversation. All I know is that whatever I feel, it’s no longer affecting me on a day-to-day basis. Sure, I think about it. Frequently, even. But it’s all in the past. What matters is today. What matters is how I learn from the past, how I grow from the past.

And can I just say, that hearing my friends complain about not getting laid or getting any, makes me feel triumphant because I am free from that as well. Why be bound to your body in that way? Trust me, it’s not like I’ve gone from bordering on nymphomania to becoming a total prude, either. I’ve just confronted that habit/problem, accepted it, and disposed of it.

Mark also said that my last blog entry really affected him and made him think about the problems he’s been having lately. It was…very rewarding to hear that. I feel like my online thought-pouring has caused so many problems between the two of us that I forget that it has the ability to enlighten and inspire, as well. I will venture to say that among all the things that we talked about, the fact that he told me that he never felt trapped when he was with me, is something that makes me feel very, very satisfied.

The small romantic in me wonders if my cynicism about relationships will actually deter me from being able to exercise my beliefs/practices that I believe are appropriate for a girlfriend — things that could actually lead to me having awesome relationships. Not even sure I can articulate what exactly I mean, but that’s all right, I have all that I need right now.

Amanda and I, on the other hand, were talking about how so many relationships don’t seem to be working out lately. It’s so interesting how in college, summer becomes such a deterrent for so many couples. Distance, too, poses such a problem for so many people.

That annoying little romantic in me shakes its head every time someone mentions their worry about separation affecting their relationship.

And it says, if your relationship is strong and real and truly going to last and actually worth staying for, then things like that are only small obstacles that should make your bond even stronger in the end.

But that little romantic in me believes that I could make marriage work and last and stay real and wonderful, too, and we all know what I think of that idea most of the time.

Anyway.

The other day, I was lamenting the fact that I don’t really have any secrets. I’m not sure there’s anything about me that has been completely kept to myself. I guess a secret that I just realized a second ago (and am now releasing to the world, haha) is the monumental fact that I don’t have nightmares anymore. I have dreams every night (or I guess the proper thing to say is that I wake up remembering my dreams every morning), and they used to always be full of distress. I always remember feeling freaked out, or worried, or sad in them.

But that’s changed. My dreams aren’t about like fluffy clouds and puppies (although those are actually more likely to belong in my nightmares, honestly), but they aren’t stressful, either. I’ve never taken psychology or anything, but I know what this means to me: it means that my heart and mind are both at peace, at last.