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Alexandra
User: lexibaby
Name: Alexandra
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I live my life the way I want.
I write my blog the way I want.
Feel free to tell me what you think about that.
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A World of Small Wonders
To See Is To Believe
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It's been a while now since I wrote something genuine. Mostly because I've been trying my damnedest to be as numb as possible (and failing miserably. It wouldn't be me without failing miserably at something.). I've been processing. Pondering. Acknowledging. And then processing a little more. In about a month, I will be 32. In about a month, I will have just started college yet again. In about a month, I will - unlike my mother at the same age - still not be a mother of two, or even one. The thing I have mostly been processing is the thing I have touched upon for a while now. The fact that I am painfully, dreadfully single. I have come to accept that. I am a great person, or so I get told. Despite this, or maybe because of this, I am single. Being single at 32 means that the odds of me being happily married with a career and two great kids by 35 is almost unachievable. Being happily married with a career and two great kids at 40 is still possible, but starting to feel improbable. Especially with the line of work I have decided that I want to be in (law enforcement). So I have been processing this, trying to piece it together the way my therapist said. (CBT is really not my kind of therapy. This is not helping. WHY IS IT NOT HELPING???) I have begun to set new life goals, but everything seems to crumble around me, and I am honestly, genuinely scared. Not that everything is fucked up, because it is not. It is just a path I never thought I would be on. I honestly don't know if I can ever truly reconcile with the idea of not becoming a mother, and the stress / anxiety level of that is really horrendous. Just writing this is almost giving me a panic attack. I keep reminding myself that it is cathartic, that if I can't even write it without crying, I won't ever be able to talk about it without crying, and if I'm going to start therapy again, I will probably need to talk about it at some point. But I think I'm done for the night with the catharsis. And now I need chocolate.

What I'm Listening To: Daughtry - Open Up Your Eyes

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"Sometimes you just love someone for as long as you can, up until it makes less sense for you to keep trying than it does for you to stop." (Katie Heaney - Never have I ever - my life (so far) without a date.)
This sort of really just explains me perfectly. This is what I do. I love someone until I have wrangled every ounce of possibility of a lasting relationship out of it, or it becomes insanely, embarrassingly apparent that there won't be one. And right now, I guess I'm not done.

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I need HELP! I saw a movie (or a TV-show) once a while back (=a few years ago), that I now want to find to rewatch. The problem is that the only thing I remember from the plot is a few seconds of a sex scene. It's a man and a woman. They are kissing a little, and then they start to undress each other. The first item he takes off her is her JEWELERY (necklace and earrings if I remember correctly). That is the only thing I remember, my mind is a complete blank after that. I don't remember the level of nudity or anything else plot wise, or even how graphic the sex was. All I remember is that he took off her EARRINGS, and dying a little of the gesture, and how sweet he is to consider that one might want to be careful with one's jewelery and that they might be uncomfortable to wear in such a situation.

Does ANYONE recognize this? I THINK the movie was in English, but it is not a guarantee.

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I sometimes wonder why I never dated any musicians. Then I hear a song like 3 Pill Morning's I Want That For You (http://open.spotify.com/track/40ZSt9Ld3113ETdLw0gCkS) and realize that if someone wrote me a song like this, I might actually literally have to kill someone. Possibly the hypothetical him. I know this is technically not a breakup-song, but still. It's just such a painful song.

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"Life becomes easier when you learn to accept an apology you never got.”
— Robert Brault

I think my therapist would agree that this is should be on the top of my to-do-list.

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“Mental pain is less dramatic than physical pain, but it is more common and also more hard to bear. The frequent attempt to conceal mental pain increases the burden: it is easier to say ‘My tooth is aching’ than to say ‘My heart is broken.’”
— C. S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

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While I'm at it with the quotes, here are two more:
Why does it always seem pathetic when a girl is in love with a boy who doesn’t love her back, and romantic and heartbreaking when a boy loves a girl who doesn’t love him

from here and
let’s get this straight

it is not romantic to persistently pursue someone after they have refused you

from here.

The first just makes me angry, the thought that people might have perceived me as pathetic, when a man in the same situation would be determined. Or "rapey". Or a million other things.
The second makes me sad. Deeply hurt. Because it makes it seem as though everything is always black and white. He might not have said yes, but he didn't really ever say no either. And I was never the one to call him. He initiated most of the contact. So yes, this is again about him.

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I read something beautiful on tumblr a few days ago, and I just now decided that it needs reblogging. So here you go:
I really can’t picture anyone at all having a crush on me. I can’t picture anyone daydreaming about me. I can’t picture someone thinking about me when they’re lay in bed before they fall asleep. I can’t picture anyone telling their friends about me. I can’t picture anyone getting butterflies because I hugged them, or even just because I made eye contact with them. I can’t picture someone smiling because my name lit up their phone. I just can’t.

I don't know what it is about this quote that gets to me. Well, I do a little, actually. A) Because that's how I feel about myself. and B) because I can see at least one of my exes thinking this while I was trying to date them.

(Stolen from here (tumblr user s4rcoline).)

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So maybe the last entry wasn't, y'know, the last, y'know, on him. Maybe this isn't either. Maybe... I don't know. I'm still pondering. Either way, the reason I'm writing is because I'm watching Supernatural, and Dean, who's in an even worse romantic situation, says to his former stepson "Just because you love someone, doesn't mean you should stick around and screw up their life." And that's sort of been my point all along. I'm trying not to screw up his life. He isn't doing the same. So what that I think of him all the time? He should still make the choice good and proper.

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What I'm Listening To: Fefe Dobson - Don't Let It Go To Your Head

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It took me until today to remember that I haven't written any follow-up posts regarding the ex-boyfriend. I probably won't anymore. This is the last you will get. Just the facts. (Or something like it.)


  • Since my post on the 15th, we spoke on the phone another five times over seven days. Almost every call lasted an hour or more.

  • We texted on Whatsapp almost every day.

  • He kept insinuating things that I kept telling him that I was trying really hard not to misunderstand, while he kept telling me that he didn't mean for it to sound the way it did. Like when he was asked to describe me and said: "Spontaneous. Funny. Quirky as hell. And... no, I can't say, you would be pissed. OK, fine. Absolutely wonderful."

  • Last Thursday (the 23rd), I did meet up and go to the pub with him and the former colleagues. I also - innocently - spent the night in his hotel room.

  • When we had lunch on Friday, I realized concluded assumed decided conjectured (I don't know what other word to use, I think this might be the most appropriate one, I'm sick of pondering my verbal skills) that he still wasn't going to break up with her at this point, despite asking me to meet him, or telling me he missed me, so I told him to leave me alone.

  • I have been a wreck since. I even went to the doctor yesterday, and as a result, I am now on sick leave for a "depressive episode." Mostly because I can't function, stop crying, and figuratively bang my head against the wall for telling him to leave me alone.

And as I said at the beginning of this entry, this will probably be the last entry on him. The doctor I saw yesterday is sending me to a psychologist of some sort, where I will get a better way to vent about this. The only way you will ever hear me mention him again is if he does get back to me. And then only maybe. Because hopefully, I will be over him (she writes while crying her eyes out at even the thought) or with someone else (even though I tried dating on and off over 2013 and it went catastrophically) or just happy. Either way, I do wish him happiness. But, like I have said at least once over this past year, I wish it was with me.

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How I'm Feeling: depressed depressed

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I guess I forgot to mention on Monday that he asked if he could call me again tomorrow (=yesterday). Since I had plans, I told him this, and that I didn't know when I'd be home, but he could always send me a text to check. I didn't hear from him at all, so I just figured that he had realized what a terribly dreadful and horrendous idea it is for us to remain in contact, and how torturous it is for at least one of us (=me).

I was wrong. At least on parts of it.

Today, we have spoken twice. Once around 7pm, for almost 45 minutes, and once just now, for almost an hour and a half. I decided to - again - be blunt, and so I asked him what he was getting out of these conversations. He said that he likes talking to me. Or maybe he said that he misses talking to me. Either way, I know this will be painful. However, the question I've asked myself since Monday (and am still unable to answer), is whether this is more or less painful than the alternative of not talking to him.

I'm still undecided as to whether or not I should meet him / them on Thursday. I'm not sure how I will react, if my emotions will get the better of me or if I will be able to keep my cool. I guess we will see.

(And for those wondering, this new blunt Alexandra, she actually confronts him about stuff. Or maybe not confronts, but at least mentions that "I'm aware that you're doing this, and I'm not dumb." Like for example the thing about how he has NO PLANS on Friday, how annoying it is of him to say that, confusing me whether or not he is actually requesting something from me or not.)

He said that he likes to keep up with me on Facebook to see the occasional moments of happiness, and implied that the lack thereof makes him feel sad and guilty. I told him that the blocking / unfriending is a two-way street.

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What I'm Listening To: Kings of Leon - Dancing On My Own

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So, the thing he really wanted to tell me, but not over text, preferably face to face, but a phone call had to do, was that he is back with his ex. (Which I obviously knew already, and told him so.) I just don't understand how that became a 55 minute phone conversation. This did nothing to relieve my confusion. He wasn't actually flirty. He was matter-of-fact. Revealed that he kept up with my life on Facebook. Told me that "there wasn't much about me [he] had forgotten," and generally kind of almost maybe possibly stringing me along a little more. Or hinting that I could convince him to change his mind, what do I know? Told me - several times, insinuatingly (is that a word?) - that he had the day off on the day after the meet, and that he had no plans for that day. Did you hear, NO PLANS. In case anyone missed it, he has NO PLANS. Except possibly, probably, most likely, getting on the plane back to his girl. Who should definitely wonder why he went for a one-hour walk with the dog, in the snow and freezing cold, wearing sneakers, late at night. But that is her problem. Her life. Her decision to make, or not. I made it clear what I want from him. It might take two to tango, but as long as his dance card is officially full, I will not even think to cut in again.

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Where I Am: Sweden, Skåne,Malmö Kommun, Malmo, Mellersta Förstaden

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So, things have gone from bad to confusing. I don't know where they will be by the time I go to bed. He sent me a text on Friday, saying he'll be in Malmö overnight next week, and him and a group of former colleagues will be going to a pub to hang out, and he would like it if I would come along. I debated it all weekend, but decided to wait a little 'til I responded. He wrote me again today, asking if I had received the text and basically repeated what he had previously said. So I wrote him back. "Yes, I received your text. Did you receive mine in November? I'm a little confused as to why you're inviting me along now since you didn't respond then." He replied that he had tried to call (from a blocked number), but I hadn't picked up, (why he didn't leave a message, send a text, try again etc, in SIX WEEKS is beyond me.) and could we talk today? I told him that I had work until 6pm, and he said he'd try after that. It is almost 8.30 pm and I'm still waiting for the call. I don't know at all what he wants. If he couldn't just text it, it is either the biggest no known to mankind, or the biggest yes anyone has ever known. I'll let you know.

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What I'm Listening To: Dramarama - Anything, anything

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I guess there will come a time when not everything reminds me of him and The Breakup, as I've started to refer to it, but this still is not it. I've been reading this book, just because it has received a bunch of buzz, called A Visit from the Goon Squad, but it's a slow read because it keeps switching up the main character, and all the characters are connected, so I'm honestly a little confused. Anyway, about 1/4 through the book, there's a character in whose story we keep getting these extracts, definitions of different structures, from somewhere unexplained (or maybe I just missed it. I kept thinking it was from the character's dissertation), and this particular one struck me hard.
Structural Dissatisfaction: Returning to circumstances that once pleased you, having experienced a more thrilling or opulent way of life, and finding that you can no longer tolerate them.

This is what always happens to me after a breakup. It's been over 10 years since my first proper breakup, but I still remember feeling like that, coming home to my apartment back then. While there was no physically discernible difference, the air has different. Oppressive. Mocking, even. I felt then, and still feel, invaded. My peace of mind has been stolen. My sanctuary has been... I don't know. All the words I want to use are words associated with rape, and that is not how it feels. It feels broken. Haunted. Yeah, that's better. I let them in, into my heart, my home, and now, every time I look around, I see them lingering. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear their breath. (This does - of course - not just apply to the men I have dated, but also to the friends I have lost. But the men I miss in a different way. I have other friends that stimulate my brain, feed me alcohol, encourage me. I don't have a black book of other men I could call when one disappoints, nor would I want to.) Sometimes, I can almost make myself believe that I can will them back into the room. That if I think it for long enough and hard enough, there will be the chime of a text message, the sexy guitar riff of my cellphone ringing, the harmonious ringtone of my land-line, which also functions as my extension for the building's buzzer system, a knock on the door, the rustle of keys in the lock (before I remember that he obviously returned them when he left), the slight squeak of the bed when he lays down next to me, the increased blowing in the ventilation system that occurs when the balcony door is opened for him to go out and have a smoke. Or maybe the smell of his shower gel, the David Beckham perfume I bought him, his breath when the minty smell and taste of a brand new chewing gum still hasn't quite managed to overtake the cigarette he just finished. The taste of Pepsi Max in his kiss. Opening the second closet from the front door and realizing that it is no longer his. All the things I reclaim and lose again on a daily basis. The empty nightstand on the side of the bed that I don't claim as mine but still lay claim to in my sleep because there is no one there to claim otherwise. The Feng Shui advice I tried to follow saying that if you want a partner, the bed - and bedroom - should always look as though there are already two people sharing it that made me more sad for so long, seeing that half of the bed neatly made but never slept in, that I have now almost started to follow again, while almost starting to ignore, because I don't think it counts that there's a spare pillow in my bed if I always sleep curled around it as if it were a person, or just steal it when I need the extra elevation. (Wow, that became a long sentence. Sorry.) I don't know exactly why I am admitting to all this, but by now I've been writing this entry for almost an hour, and the CD I started out listening to has long ended, and I have almost broken out in tears four times, and I am starting to think that this rambling is cathartic, that this means I am getting somewhere. I am adhering to (and adapting) that silly theory that if I list everything that reminds me of him, I am taking away its power. (And I know that this paragraph after the quote started out being about breakups in general and has now metamorphosed into something about him specifically, but doesn't everything?) That by acknowledging the power it has on me, I surrender to it and in the process, neutralize it. I don't even know. Am I still making sense? Do these words on a computer screen actually have the power to help me heal, or are they just helping me justify it, and disabling me from progressing, and instead making this a vicious circle, a catch-22? How long can one rehash something before it has been discombobulated beyond recognition? Taken so for away from its original context that it no longer has one? And... final question of the evening... am I at, or even beyond, that point by now?

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What I'm Listening To: Anna Kendrick - Cups / When I'm Gone

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I bought Supernatural season 6-8 on Amazon's Black Friday sale. I will be mainlining it shortly. :)

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To continue where I left off: I didn't reply to his Friday text straight away, so on the Monday he sent another. I decided to put my money where my mouth is, and the cards on the table, and I told him that I still had feelings for him. That was almost two weeks ago. He hasn't replied. I think that's the only answer I will ever get.
In somewhat related news: Last week, season 8 of Criminal Minds arrived in the mail, and I started watching it a few days ago. Today, in one of the episodes I watched, there was another one of their "drive me crazy" quotes: "Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go, but rather, learning to start over." I guess that is what has always been my problem. Getting back to a sense of normality, or a state of it rather, after a breakup. It's always been hard, but this time it feels almost impossible. I feel like I've been put through the wringer. I can barely put one foot in front of the other. Nothing makes sense, and nothing seems to fix it. I just feel broken. (Feel free to insert some of the lyrics from Aerosmith's "Hole in My Soul" here. I know I did.) Some of my friends have suggested that maybe I should start seeing a therapist. Some have suggested online dating. Option A might be the best for now, because I sure don't feel ready to start something new right now. Honestly, I think I'm close to getting to the point where you just give up on love and make the decision to just stay single permanently. Because I just can't anymore. I can't get my hopes up and then be let down. I can't stand being in love with someone who isn't in love with me. I just cannot be bothered. I'm starting to think that there isn't someone there for me, because I'm too picky, too unwilling to settle. So I guess that between the option of settling with someone and giving up on love, I'd rather give up. At least today. But ask me again in a week, who knows what I might say?

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Let's be blunt, because that's who I am. I'm still not over him. I'm not really trying at this point. It was his birthday two weeks ago. I sent him a text, and we have been cordially, sporadically texting ever since. I thought it was done with when I sent him a text on the 12th, the day I saw Papa Roach and forgot to mention until now, that he didn't reply to. Until yesterday, that is. And damn it, I'm confused. At what point do I casually tell him "Hope things have slowed down. By the way, I still love you and sometimes I still pretend you're next to me in bed just so that I have enough peace of mind to fall asleep, because peace of mind is something I have very little of these days." So I've been marathoning Once upon a Time to stop my mind racing, but with all the "will they or won't they"'s and heartbreaks on that show, it doesn't help much.

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A few years back, I used to be a regular on this Supernatural forum on TelevisionWithoutPity. There was a sub-forum where we had all kinds of non-show-related discussions, called the Meet Market. We'd talk about our lives, love etc. But there is one thing in particular that has stuck with me for years. It's something Tara said there regarding getting back together with one's ex (which she, in a fun twist, had stolen from an ex):
"You have a refrigerator. There is a pint of milk. It is expired. Do you put the milk back in fridge and check it a month later to see if it's good again? No, it went bad, and it's always going to be bad. In fact, it will just get worse."
Reminding myself of this, has stopped me from many a late-night booty texts to various exes. Recently, however, I have developed a tendency to forget the validity of this statement. (But no, I haven't contacted him. I'm not that destructive.) Just yesterday, I found myself revising this theory, and adapting it to a movie instead.
("You watch a movie on the TV, at a friend's house, wherever. It is really good, but you never think to buy it to re-watch. Instead you watch the same old movies that you already have, but have started to not like, or become bored with. Then you remember that one FANTASTIC movie from years ago, and get the urge to re-watch it. And yes, it's just as good as it was that one time.")
I am trying really hard to convince myself that he's the box of milk and I am the fantastic movie. But the fact is, if that pint of milk walked out of the fridge and came and said hi, I would have a hard time convincing myself that it's gone bad and that I should toss it out. So I'm trying to follow the break-up guide line written by Neil Strauss (yes, that Neil Strauss. Shut up.). As a friend (a different one), said about it: Nothing new, but whatever works. But now, sleep.

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How I'm Feeling: sad sad