Jabba Time -

Time is a funny thing. Absense too.


I think of all the adages that apply to these two concepts and grow weary.


For those of you close to me know that for some time i was a complete mess over Jabba the Hutt (yes, that's a codename of course. & yeah, that may be fodder for another post, on how that name came to be. it isn't quite as mean as it sounds.). I think i can safely say that three years were spent hoping, wallowing and waiting over this particular person, one who i saw on a regular basis.

I then made the decision that I wasn't too proud of; I had to stay away.

This was a mix of emotions because eff it, just because someone is a jackass doesn't mean i have to stay away. That would mean that he won. But it got increasingly harder all the time, so i stopped. Originally i thought it was temporary, then it became a habit and then it was how it was. It has been over 2.5 years that i have stayed away. Oh, yes, there was the almost-sighting (i ducked, dork.) and there was opportunity, but i took the "this is your dance space, this is mine" to whole new levels.



I guess running into "that person" is inevitable. It happens eventually. I should be grateful it wasn't as i was leaving the gym, or running to the store for a last-minute ingredient wearing gnome flannel. i saw him at my company party, which i decided to treat like prom and actually put some effort into dressing the part (i had shiny, straight hair, false eyelashes, and a gold skirt. so i looked good, i think, but much more importantly i felt great.). It went fine, 1 minute of polite inquiries (once i recognized him after talking to him for 30 seconds) & a swatch of conversation later on & it was done.



And i thought; not too bad.



Until the drive home. Word to the wise, false eyelashes plus gobby-pent-up-unexpected tears equals not so much fun. These were the worse kinds of tears, a lethal combination of pity, anger at myself, frustration, lost time, more lost time as the waterworks continued to flow. As the mascara ran, i thought how a good cry is necessary. And it is nice to know i do have hidden emotions.


Sunday brought spasms of uncontrollable tears. In the middle of my voice lesson i completely broke down into hiccupping sobs (and we were staying away from love songs, especially ones of unrequited love!). Ironically, it was a good lesson, apparently i sing better when i am distracted.



My three best girls got to hear all about it (And it was really nothing). Thank you, M, S & S.

Today is calm and lovely. The rain has subsided, the sun is shining off the plump grey clouds & i've lunch plans, so that's nice. Jabba is miles away. Maybe that was closure. Maybe it was time.



Sorry for the stereotypical-girl lament. i just thought writing about it would be cathartic.