Thursday, September 24, 2009

It's Not Me, It's You

I definitely didn’t see this coming. After nine months together, I just broke up with someone tall, dark, and handsome, who I've had a crush on since I was a teenager. He's rich, thrilling, lives to work and never sleeps. For a while, I thought he was The One.

I just broke up with New York City.

I thought we would be the perfect match. When we first got together, it was the middle of winter, so I assumed any problems we had would only get better come spring. As summer showed up, he made promises of sunny days and better jobs. Instead, he was rainy, cold, and miserable most of the time. He was distant and didn’t seem to care whether I was stuck at home waiting for him to cheer up, and he certainly didn’t follow through with the promise of a job. He caused fights between my friends and I. Plus, I thought he smelled like garbage and urine. (Hey, pheromones are pheromones.) I waited for things to get better. They didn’t.

New York, if you were a real boy, I would have soooo broken up with you before graduation.

I’ve learned that maybe relationships that seem perfect from a distance aren’t always so great when seen up close. Before New York, I thought happiness meant sky-high heels and fancy Meatpacking clubs. Turns out I’d rather be in flip-flops with a sweating Bud Light in my hand any day of the week. Life is what you make it. (Apparently, I make it country.)

Like all breakups that are meant to be, I feel nostalgic about the good times and am trying to iron over the bad. I feel inspired and new and more like me than I have in a very long time. I know there is a better fit out there for me somewhere, and I’m excited to find it.

And if I never hear the wail of a siren again, it will be too soon.


Mary Lou said...

Great Grand Big...
I have to say that I saw this coming. It's not the traditional "I told you so" but more like "Yesss dahlin' you are too Southarhn for that Yankee hell hole." Gracie and I recently decided that we are both Southern Belles, despite geographic origins, and you too my love are indeed a SOUTHERN BELLE. Welcome to the ranks. Now, grab a sweet tea (Long Island Ice tea is acceptable with the name change of "Simon Island Ice Tea"), your flip flops, and a wide brim hat and bask in the "y'all's" followed by a Southern drawl.

Jennifer Garza said...

I sooo get this! Funny how it took moving to New York to figure out I'm a Southern girl at heart. Go figure! I love your blog - you're adorable!

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