I broke up with my little french lover yesterday. Well, we went "on a break" when I was home for Christmas. Yeah, like Ross and Rachel style. But we got back together, gave it another honest try, but it was a no go.
I was kind of Bella Swaning yesterday. Yes, I embarrassingly enough just made a Twilight character into a verb and then compared myself to her. Not my classiest moment. haha You know, in the book/movie when she breaks up with Edward and she's a hot mess. Thankfully, I was neither as pathetic nor as incessantly blinky, but I could sort of relate. Something didn't feel right. That dang french verb came to mind and realized that I missed him and was going to miss him for a little bit. Crap bag.
I guess it's just hard because I've never felt that way for someone before. I've been fortunate to date some really great guys, but while I adored them for how they treated me and the people that they were, I didn't feel the same way as they did. But it was different with this guy.
It seemed like everything he did was good. His hands are constantly aflame while my fingers are always frigid. He would always take my hand in his, warm it up and kiss it. It's silly, and normally that would stress me out if one of my dates randomly pulled crap like that. But it was weird how something so simple could somehow seems like the most wonderful thing in the world. It was strange to me how much I loved hearing from him, being next to him, the sweet things he'd say to me, how whenever I'd bring up something that was worrying me he'd look at me concerned and intent--wanting to fix it and make it better, or speaking french together--me butchering it while he spoke it with such ease and attractiveness that it was kind of a hate crime.
He was a lot of firsts for me. First time I’d been in a relationship where we mutually adored each other. First time I fell in love. I’d never been able to understand what everyone was talking about when they talked about “being in love”. I’ve always cared deeply for the people I’ve dated, but have never been in love with them. Well I understand now.
But it was really hard too. I'd never dated a member of a different religion before. It was difficult meeting up with my boyfriend to go on a date and when he kissed me, he smelled like smoke...and not because he had a habit of roasting marshmallows. It was hard that the Law of Chastity was such a huge sacrifice for him and having that standard frequently challenged instead of respected. I missed having my religion as a common denominator. With him, it was hard to talk about my mission or the church, because he didn't relate, understand or...necessarily care. At some point, it was time to face the facts that were whack-a-moling me in the face and not postpone what needed to happen.
I’m not mad. I don’t have bad feelings for him. I won’t speak poorly of him. He is a really great person. It embarrassingly hurts a bit and I miss him. The feeling that something’s off because it’s gone, and aching a little because it’s not coming back. But I think that’s okay. It means that we actually had something to miss. If it didn’t hurt at all then what we had wasn’t that great.
So here we are. Should I spend the evening binging on brownie batter and watching a depressing chick flick of my choice? Nah. I'll do a Jillian Michaels video, remind myself in my prayers that I was lucky to have the experience, not forget that I'll eventually find better, and fall asleep to an Adam Sandler film--Just Go With It, specifically. haha There you have it T. Swift. Write a song about THAT!