A friend of mine is having a birthday gathering at some as yet undisclosed location next week. This is a pretty good friend, and I wouldn't miss the chance to buy her a birthday drink for the world.
Except there's a good chance my ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend will also be in attendance. I haven't seen this former life partner of mine since he finally got around to moving his stuff out of my apartment eight months after dumping me, and I haven't seen the new girlfriend since being introduced to her (and actually, to my retroactive dismay, quite liking her) at some party a few weeks before being rather unceremoniously dumped.
And I'm terrified. Terrified and sad and angry and hurt and full of this inexplicable and undeniable desire to bash their heads together and kick them in the 'nads and also and simultaneously gather them both into a great big bear hug and wish them all the happiness in the world.
(I've never to my knowledge, or at least never with a straight face, claimed to be an entirely rational individual.)
I was walking up Amsterdam Avenue with Nick last week after work one evening, heading towards the A train, talking about this upcoming little gem of a social situation. I'm hoping that some of my nearest and dearest, my brother, Nick, a couple others, will also be in attendance, will act as an emotional buffer, a human incarnation of the Great Wall of China, if you will, and help me to not get my heart broken again, and to not do or say anything foolish or rash, anything I'll have reason to regret and berate myself for later.
I confessed to Nick my fears of being unready, of not being strong enough, distant enough, adult enough, to handle this quite yet, even though it's been almost a year and a half.
And Nick, wonderful Nick, ever brilliant and succinct and having a knack for getting directly to the heart of things, turned to me and said, quite simply, "Em. You don't have to be all right with it. You just have to not make a scene."
And there you have it, folks. The big question. Can this gyrl, overly emotional at times, prone to fits of depression and rage and hysterical giggles and euphoric glee, manage to get through the evening without making a scene?
Stay tuned. And wish me luck. And maybe psychically send some warm, fuzzy thoughts.
Of course, given how much I've been dreading this, they will probably not even be there. And these sleep-deprived nights will have been for naught.
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2 comments:
It's been almost 9 years since I was also unceremoniously dumped by an ex. And to this day, I still harbor evil dark feelings about it, mixed with a desire to rise above my horrible emotions. So, from one formerly broken hearted individual to another, currently broken hearted individual - hang in there.
Thanks, mysterious anonymous. It helps to be reminded that these things can take a long, long time.
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