Tag Archives: Taylor Swift

All too well

8 Nov

I. Am. On. Holiday.

OK, I’m not flying ‘til Sunday, but I am finished work for two long weeks. Delightful. I celebrated with a massage on my way home tonight.

Funny, though. I don’t quite feel the crazy holiday excitement that I usually get.

It’s this time of year, damnit. Last year at this time, well, it was the happiest I’ve ever been. For about two months I was on the highest of highs. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have met him. I couldn’t believe how incredible he made me feel.

I know this makes me (the dumpee) sound pathetic. But – believe me – he was the same. He was the one talking about marriage and moving in and kids. Not me. Him. I remember it all too well.

Now, let me just take a moment to thank Taylor Swift. There are days when hearing her pinpoint my emotions literally got me out of bed. Sometimes she seems like the only one who understands me.

Tonight I was listening to ‘All Too Well’ on the way home, and realised just how accurately it describes my current situation. As if the break up isn’t painful enough, I have to cope with remembering the blissfully happy times. The disgustingly happy times. And while he says he was never in love with me, I remember how he acted back them. I remember it all too well.

Unfortunately, I can’t think about it for too long without also remembering the mess I’m in now.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

I couldn’t describe my ex better. I’m certain that he feels OK about himself after our phone call (five weeks after the pizza of doom). I’m sure that he believes he did the right thing in telling me he was never in love with me. In the name of being honest. Why couldn’t he have said his feelings just changed? Why couldn’t he have made up something – anything – rather than leave me with that emotional baggage?

The damage is going to stay with me for a long, long time.

More than three months have passed and every morning I still struggle to get out of bed. Every day I cry. A lot. And I wonder just what exactly makes me so unlovable?

The old April would be so ecstatic and hyper about her holiday, she’d have massive butterflies flapping around in her stomach. No butterflies today. But hopefully two weeks of sunshine will help bring the real me back.

Because, as my good friend Taylor puts it,

“I’d like to be my old self again but I’m still trying to find it.”

I liked the old me. I remember her all too well.

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I love Taylor Swift (Part 1)

30 Aug

How does she know what is in my brain?