Mr. Grilled Cheese

Carrie – I am no longer a young professional living in the 6ix. As much as I loved shitting around in what my father termed my “sabbatical” year in a great city, I’ve decided to move to a sleepier town. I’ve immerse myself back into an academic environment filled with intelligent, like-minded individuals, and a ton of… general douchebags. Welcome to the world of law school.

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Since I began two months ago, I have projectile vomited on a bus in front of my friends, peed behind a school building on campus, fallen on my face on a boat cruise, woken up with a leg full of bruises, developed viral conjunctivitis (aka a case of the pink eye), gotten a cold twice, and just generally killed it at life it seems. Maybe it’s the fierce female squad I’ve made (our group chat is the “Pro Boners”) and their bad influence on me but realistically, it’s probably just me.

One Saturday, after 12 hours in the library, my friend and I took one break to stop for linner at around 3. With that having been my only meal of the day, my mind being exhausted, and my overall track record of making bad life choices, I am fucked by 8:30 p.m. when we head over to this bro’s house for a pre.

I show up and I am the most ‘lit-lit’ out of all of us. I was hoping one of my crushes would be there – he’s a year younger but we went to the same alma mater, he’s well-spoken, tall, with these cerulean eyes that are alarmingly entrancing. He had been messaging me a couple of weeks earlier, even sending me heart emojis that the Pro Boners collectively freaked out over, so I had this pent up sexual tension I was hoping to explore with Mr. Heart Emoji.

Naturally, I sleep with his best friend.

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Celebrating My 3 Year Anniversary with Me, Myself and I

It was just another day as I stood in front of my pre-kindergarten class going through our morning routine: attendance, weather, counting, calendar. Nothing out of the ordinary, but today’s date made me stop a little dead in my tracks. I had forgotten about it, and especially about Mr.. High School Crush, but today it all came back in my mind because it would have been our three-year anniversary. Hold up. I can safely say that I haven’t thought about this guy in a long time and suddenly one date with a pretty big memory came and knocked me down like a sack of potatoes.

Obviously I made it through the day without giving it another real thought, but the car ride home from school and the rest of the night was a different story where my mind began obsessing over Mr. High School Crush: did he ever think about me? Does he remember that it is our anniversary? Has he moved on? Should I message him? Needless to say the questions and wonders were plentiful, and they led me to a thorough Facebook stalking (guilty) and a re-read of all of his past cards and letters that I thought were safely stowed away in the very back of my closet.

It was one of those nights that could have been well paired with a tub of ice-cream and some chick flicks, but I knew I was way over that and opted for a blog post and some girl-chat instead to come up with a few of my own “hard but important” truths following a break up:

Your ex is going to get over you whether you like it or not

I didn’t like this one at all. One of the comforts of my break-up was that I had the upper hand. It was on my terms, when I was ready and even though he hadn’t tried to talk me out of the break up, I knew that he still wanted to date me, even leaving me with the “one day I hope to end up with you”. Following the break up, he was quick to answer my texts, liked my instas, even left me a going away present and super cute card, and kept up with my life. It was comforting, and as betchy as it sounds, I liked the fact that I still had him wrapped around my finger. However, eventually, the communication stopped to the point where he would take weeks to answer me until our conversations have fizzled out to the point of non-existence. It hit me hard, but Mr. High School Crush did – what I thought – was impossible and he went on his life without me, and let me go on my life without him.

It’s okay to remember what it was like to be in love

One of my most guilty moments on “our” three year anniversary was the fact that I re-read all of those cards and notes from Mr. High School Crush, and even more guilty was how happy it all made me. At first I thought it was pathetic, and after some pep talking from the other DTT6 blogger Carrie, I felt a lot better about it. When I re-read those cards I couldn’t help but smile and felt the need to want to bury the hatchet and forget about all the fighting and crying there was at the end of the relationship. I know that I can look back on those 2.5 years and confidently say that the majority of it was happy and loving – making me feel a lot better and less concerned that I “wasted my time”. Reading those cards weirdly made me feel confident too: it was exciting to know and remember that someone can love you so much and think so highly of you (and was a great feeling to read it over and over, card after card). It was a sort of bitter sweet moment but was definitely an important step to not just getting over things, but getting over things in a positive and happy way!

Keep your friends close

Becoming the girl that I never wanted to become,  when I was in a relationship I was the girl that was obsessed with her boyfriend which unfortunately was at the expense of my friends. Towards the end of my relationship I realized how much neglecting I had done, and also how closed off I was to reconnecting with old friends and making new friends. Luckily for me, I realized how important friendships were when I was still in a relationship and I made an effort and continued to make an effort when I was single. I can safely say that my friends were the reason that I was super happy being single – from Galentines day to Disney World, my last 8 months of amazing experiences can all be attributed to some great friends.

“I had to let go of us to show myself what I could do”

Like every basic betch in the 6, once Views came out – I had it on repeat and this lyric really stuck with me. Being in a relationship made me feel trapped in a way, and the fact that it was so easy made me feel okay with complacency, and let me tell you I’ve never been okay with complacency. One of the reasons I waited to break up with Mr. High School Crush was because I was scared of what life would be like without, and I craved the comfort and security that came along with the relationship. The analogy that I used to describe the “fine” that was our relationship was like a boat: it wasn’t moving, but it wasn’t sinking and it was just stand still. Well let me tell you that stand still gets boring, and challenge and excitement is way more fulfilling. Once I mustered up all of my courage and broke up with him, my life became way more fun and exciting. I worked at the most magical place on earth (travelling around a lot too), scored a great job when I got home and balanced school. Now I’m planning more trips (with some of the other bloggers), have so much time for friends and adventure, and am even training to run a 5k! None of this would have even crossed my mind had I stayed in the relationship, and my “me” time has been put to good use!

Though it sucked remembering and thinking about how we would have celebrated our three year anniversary, I am happy that I had the day to think and reflect and celebrate for myself by myself. I have definitely seen the value of being a single pringle and have had some of the best and most fun experiences riding solo.

I wish all the best to Mr. High School Crush, as we should do to our exes (unless they’re actually evil, then no doubt we do not wish them the best), and I hope he lives happily ever after, as far away from me as possible.

 

Mr. Slide Into My DMs

Carrie – For the first time in a really long time, when I stepped out of the shower that morning, an overwhelming sensation of gratitude washed over me. Perhaps I had been in a particularly good mood having finished my summer courses and finally enjoying what was left of my summer. Maybe it was the reminiscent effect of some weed I’d had the night before. Whatever the case, I was appreciative of the simple things: the sweet aroma of my shampoo, the soft towel grazing against freshly cleaned skin, and the sensation of my plush memory-foam bath mat under my foot as I gingerly step out of the shower.

Then in some weird sort of memory association, I remembered the history of said bath-mat. It wasn’t particularly sentimental, being a cheap Costco purchase two years ago. However, I recall enthusiastically snapping videos of the memory foam in action to Mr. Puppy Love who often experienced my obsession with all-things-fuzzy. The mat has also gotten me through darker moments: supporting me (and friends) as we hung around the toilet the morning after a night of binge drinking and comforting me when I pathetically cried after Mr. Mindfuckboy left my house that fateful winter night.

If you haven’t read up on my saga with Mr. Mindfuckboy, I’ll spare you your life and give you the Sparks notes here: this guy’s favourite movie is The Notebook. If that wasn’t indication enough (as I was too infatuated to see at the time), it is exactly the type of tortured romance he’s looking for in his life. He wanted me to be his Allie, the girl he couldn’t be with right away, but she was his soul mate and they’d eventually end up together when the time was ‘right’. Too bad the ‘right’ time in the movie was also the most-complicated scenario/worst-timing right when she was happy and about to get married. But that was the love he wanted. Mr. Mindfuckboy made everything fifteen times more complicated than it should have been. When I gave him the opportunity to be with me, he chose to cower, ignoring my phone calls but writing me a fucking poem about how I’m better off without him. Later that evening, I sent him a ‘break-up’ text telling him to never contact me again and delete me from his life.

So lo and behold my dismay when, I kid you not, TWELVE MONTHS LATER (that’s a whole year later ladies and gents) I get hit up with a follow on Instagram from Mr. Mindfuckboy, who I will now term Mr. (Slide Into My) DM.

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