My laptop is as busted as Kim Kardashian's reputation, so I'm typing this on my phone. It's tedious to say the least. But today is a happy day, so I want to write about my sparkly mood.
It's my birthday!!!! YAY! 23 is a big year, as you all know. It's also the birthday of the fabulous Ms. Liza Minelli (with a Z!), the 100th anniversary of the Girl Scouts (those crazy communists, feminists, and lesbians!) and the one year anniversary of the Japanese tsunami disaster. But most importantly it's the 23rd anniversary of me gracing this earth with my glorious, fabulous, glittery, pink presence.
I was born on a sunshine-y Sunday, I'm told, at precisely 11:59 AM at St. Francis Hospital in Beech Grove, Indiana. I was a little 6-pound, 4-ounce pink, wrinkly bundle of joy who's been raising hell ever since.
I've had some really great birthdays, some OK ones, and some really shitty ones. This year is going to be simply superb. I have already treated myself to the Glee Concert movie on pay-per-view and gotten a free iced coffee at Speedway. Winning! And BONUS! I'll be celebrating my birthday hibachi-style at my favorite low-rent Japanese grill, Kabuto Steakhouse.
Last year I had a mini meltdown because a certain someone didn't call/text to wish me a happy birthday. But honestly, this year I couldn't care less. It's already shaping up to be quite an outstanding day, so I needn't muss it up with such things. This is my day, why should I be devoting my thoughts to that? No reason!
I also wished that another certain person last year would wish me a special happy birthday. I can't even remember if they did, for all my fretting and moaning. Obviously it wasn't that important!
So I know it's a bit late for a New Years Resolution, therefore I will make a birthday resolution. It's my day, I make the rules. Today, this month, this year, it's about me. Just me. Not myself in the context of someone else, just Jennifer.
I'm an amazing wonderful person, so why should I resign myself to the memory of someone? I'm so much better than that. Look, I will always, always forever love him. I can't change that and I wouldn't want to because that is a huge part of me. But I read an interesting article today about letting go. It said to first "address the fear, process the grief, and ultimately take responsibility for the thoughts that are creating their anxiety and causing them to project the negativity onto themselves."
Ok. The fear: I won't ever be as deeply in love with anyone as I was with ERL. I won't feel the same way with anyone else, no one will make me feel as warm and safe and in my own little world as he did. That I'm never going to feel that instant, look across the room, that's it, nothing else matters, Meg Ryan moment ever again. I once told my best friend that I knew I'd never feel the same way about anyone because with every other guy I've been with, I've thought about other people. With him, no one else mattered. I never thought about anyone but him. I never wanted anyone else but him, sexually or otherwise. He was enough for me, but unfortunately I didn't have love big enough for the both of us.
The grief: I've mourned this for a long time. I've lamented the what-if for so long I don't even remember a time where I didn't want to be with him. I think part of my fear is losing that hope that him and I will "happen." Like his ass is suddenly gonna realize I'm The One and we'll have a John Cusack moment and live happily ever after. I think I'd honestly have better luck trying to date John Cusack himself. I poured my heart and soul and every bit of everything I had into telling him how and why I truly felt as I did. I laid it all out there and I can do nothing more. He doesn't talk to me and I guess there's a reason for that. That is a new part of the grief, but it's an oddly satisfying one. I look at it as him cutting himself off from me, cause I was never going to have it be the other way around. I always ran back to him the minute I scaled the fence I built around my own heart. It's him doing me a favor and I guess I have to be grateful. I do still have an itty bitty sliver of hope, but it won't ever go away. It's wedged inside me like war shrapnel.
So yes, I create my own prison walls, but today I'm bustin' loose. Jailhouse rock. I do not have a partner, but that's ok. I will not dance with a wooden chair, I'll just be happy. I may be a bit sad tomorrow or the next day, but from now on, the sunshine days will outweigh the cloudy days. I spent way too many days worrying about how happy I should be with someone else instead of how happy I am with just myself. So, happy birthday, to me! A good attitude is the best gift I've gotten so far :)
