Oh Yeah!

“Oshima reaches out and lays a hand on my knee in a totally natural gesture. ‘Kafka, in everybody’s life there’s a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can’t go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept the fact. That’s how we survive.'”

– Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami

Note: This story has a point, I swear.

Right before Ex and I broke up, he wanted to plan a “romantic getaway”. We spent a few months researching wineries, cool things in the city, etc. Then he bought a ticket to come see me.

The night before his flight (for the ROMANTIC GETAWAY that was HIS IDEA) he called to say that, um, tomorrow would be his last trip to St. Louis. Furthermore, he would not be able to move there in six months (also his idea) because he had joined a psuedo-psychedelic emocore band and they were going to “seriously make it”.

I told him that if that was the case, I didn’t want to see him. So he didn’t come.

Here’s my point: almost immediately after I hung up the phone, I had a brilliant idea. I should have told him to come. I should have driven to the airport to pick him up. I should have met him at the gate and given him a hug and walked him to my car.

Then I should have poured a 32 oz. grape soda on his crotch and left him stranded at the airport with purple pee pants.

Dammit. Dammit! That would have been awesome, right? A decent revenge, but virtually harmless. Fun for everybody!

But I didn’t. I cried. I wrote. Boy, did I write. I didn’t eat, but I drank. I ran. I found new boyfriends. I made fun of his shitty band. I did a lot of things, some more rewarding than others.

About a year ago, I decided to go on a dating strike. I suppose it was partially because I was still mad at him, I still had trust issues, etc.

But it also had to do with my career, my life, and getting to know myself. I didn’t feel like dealing with all the relationshippy bullshit, and I didn’t want to use people to avoid feeling lonely. And most importantly, I just had to resolve some things within myself, and I didn’t want to take out my problems on anyone else.

I’ve discovered a lot of things over the past year, some of which I’ll share (mainly that I never feel lonely – even when I’m alone) and some that I’ll keep to myself (yo, couples are annoying as shit).

But I’m still really fucking pissed that I didn’t give him purple pee pants in front of thousands of people. I feel that months of misery and aggression could have been avoided with that one defining moment.

So yes, I will probably have issues concerning him forever, issues that can only be resolved with a punch to the face or a purple crotch. Or both. Until that happens, I will occasionally feel the need to make fun of his band, no matter how immature it may seem (or how TRUE, because they SUUUUUCK). Other than that, I think I’ve accomplished everything that can be expected.

So that being said, I suppose “The Year of No” is over.

That doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m in the “Year of Yes”, buddy. The first time Ex and I broke up, five boys tried to kiss me in one week, and they were all friends so I’d end up at parties with all of them and it was a scary weird time. And while I highly doubt that boys will be lining up at my door, I’ve purposely prefaced my announcement with an ex-boyfriend story to freak them out, hopefully preventing any future “Black Friday” incidents.

I’m not dating. I’m just done actively not dating.

Yeah.

Um. Hmm…

DAMMIT GRAPE SODA! DAMN YOU! WHY ARE YOU SO AWESOME?