Becca Anderson blathers about...stuff. Or something.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005


Tonight I went to Old Navy with Chrissy, and bought a pair of size 6 jeans (I took a friend's advice and bought one pair of new pants, as my other pants don't fit), a couple of sweaters, and some built-in bra camisoles. Ooh, and I bought a fleece. And then we went to the pet store. Because my effing cat effing destroyed my curtains! So I needed some "quit scratching that, you jerk" spray, and then there were some cute pet dishes on sale. So I bought them, and now I can reclaim my cereal bowls.

After I dropped Chrissy off, I drove around forEVER looking for a parking spot. I finally decided to double park for a second, run in and get my Adderall prescription, and go get it filled. But the pharmacy closed 3 minutes before I got there! CURSES.

In a moment of...I don't know I was driving around looking for parking AGAIN, I called Scott. You may recall that he said a few weeks ago that we shouldn't talk for now, and I have respected that, much to my own surprise.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately. I miss him. On Friday night, when Jonathan told me I COULDN'T COME IN his party because I wasn't be-gowned, I wanted to call Scott and rant. When I was shopping on and saw a t-shirt woth "NATURE" emblazoned across the front, I thought about how, if we were still dating, or were friends, I would buy it. I think a lot about what went wrong, and whether there was anything I could have done differently. Could I have just not dated him in the first place? Broken up for good in June? Kept dating in hopes of a change?

When the time came to make the decision, his words from July echoed in my ears: "I've done this before [taken back a girl who cheated] and it just gets sadder and sadder, and worse and worse." I didn't want that. I couldn't fix what was wrong. I need to be alone, to focus on myself. There's no "fixing" that -- it'll just take time.

So we talked. I didn't expect him to answer, and I was going to decide whether to leave a message when the time came. But lo and behold, he did answer. The conversation was stilted, and then ok, and then awkward, and then ok, and then awkward, and then very sad. I cried some.

He commented in his blog that this boy-girl stuff is hard. I have always been on board with that sentiment, that is for sure. But I didn't know that a breakup that I initiated, that was my idea, would be so hard, too. I like to think of the world in terms of things I can handle, and things I know how to do, and the fact is...I just don't know how to do this.

I know how to have a guy not want me. I know how to be sad and angry, and how to rail against how very unfair it is that I am unwanted. I know how to deal with not liking a boy right off the bat. I know how to steer the conversation around any possible crushes, and how to pretend the awkwardness isn't there until it just passes.

I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to tell someone wonderful that it's not right. I don't know how to help him understand and make this better. I know how to care for someone, and I know how to talk until I'm blue in the face, and I know what it is to be in his position, and I know how to be selfish and alone. What I didn't know was that all of these things together are a complex and upsetting combination, difficult to navigate.

Growing up is...not as much fun as I thought it would be.


  • At 12:23 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

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  • At 8:37 AM, Anonymous Kevin the Frank said…

    That last "comment" particularly sucks. Especially since you're pouring your heart out and then there's this totally impersonal crass corporate message.

    Still, I concur. Growing up isn't as much fun as I thought it would be either.

  • At 5:54 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    One thing you probably could have done different was not cheat. That would have probably made him feel better. Just a shot in the dark though.

  • At 4:10 PM, Blogger Becca said…

    Hey, Anonymous!

    Thank you for the advice, but next time please be sure to leave your name so that I may thank you more personally.

    Love, Becca


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