London 2.0

“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”

I was colorblind to the glaring red flags, blinded by the fact that I was in love with a man that no longer existed.  The pieces chipped slowly away, almost without my knowledge, until I found myself considering adding those all important pieces of myself to the pile, the pieces that make me, me.  The ones I have worked so hard to own, the ones that I'm proud of, and those that I swore I would never give up for anyone.  But the moment I considered it, the moment he asked for them, I knew I went to far....

I knew something didn't feel right almost immediately but I've gotten very good at ignoring those feelings and chalking them up to an inevitable casualty of monogomy.  But they aren't.  The first 2 days of Beni's return were exactly what they were supposed to be, a loving, sex-induced coma, then kind that distracts you from any real thoughts.  But by mid-week, I had committed the cardinal sin of trust, like many women confused and insecure, I went through his phone.  I didn't find exactly what I was looking for but it was a clear red flag, it was a behavior I never gave in to before that moment, despite many men in my dating past that deserved it.  Then two days later, there I was crying in his bed again.  I don't think I'm much of a crier, at least not until recently.  I had spent 2 hours playing cards with Beni and his cousins, 2 hours of being ignored, 2 hours of being talked over, and 2 hours of feeling completely disconnected with the man I have spent my whole London life with.  It wasn't so much the talking it was the realisation that there wasn't much left.  But I ignored it again, luckily or unluckily he didn't.  He said nothing until the next day, despite the reassurances of his love to silence my tears, he was confused, and on the verge of leaving me...again.

There are only so many times, you can go back and forth before all hope and trust are lost.  We reached that point yesterday.  We tried more times than I care to remember to delay the inevitable, we even spent the night before cuddled up in each others loving arms but all things will come to a breaking point.  The last 6 months, he has asked for everything and gave nothing in return.   His fear and cultural pressures have placed me last and left him a shell, without even so much of a hint of the man I fell in love with.

When he said we could only be together if I never went to a friends house without him, I knew it went to far, he said he knew I would never listen to him but it was a demand that I am not willing to give into, nor should I.  It was one of many comments lately.  I was more than willing to assimialte, to understand, and to compromise for the idea of love but at what point do I lose everything.  I didn't want it to end this way, if I'm honest I didn't want it to end at all, I still wanted him to be my Eat, Pray, Love man.  And through all my anger and hurt, I still feel sorry for him.  He wants nothing, he tries for nothing, and has given up, all of which leads to a very sad, depressing existence.  I will not and cannot be a happy Albanian housewife, content with a roof over my head and nothing more.  I want more, I want to be surprised, I want adventure, I want a debate partner, I want someone who inspires me.  If that person exists for me, it won't be Beni, sadly.

But I started this journey with nothing, with no one but myself.  I know it will be lonely and hard but I also know it will not be harder than it was the first time, afterall London is my home now too....not even Beni can take that away from me.

1/4 Life Crisis Round 2

My solution to the first one was London.  It was my most daring move to date but as my 2nd quarter life crisis looms, I'm wondering if I'll be forced to move to Austrailia to survive it.  I hoped that crisis was the like the chicked pox; you scratch away at the surface, feeling uncomfortable in your own skin but when its over your resilient and immune, with nothing but a few barely visible scars marking the trauma.  Side bangs and a round of shots are a good source of camouflage against the untrained eye but after a month in the US, I might as well admit that I'm lost....again!

I ran home in hopes of avoiding this, I was sure that when I boarded the plane, I would have a plan, a next move, or at least a better understanding of what to do when I returned.  But everything seemed as unresolved returning to Heathrow as when I left.  Surrounded by the people that know me the best and love me in spite of it, there were moments when I thought moving back to the states was the answer.  But then I would add another adventure in a distant place to the 'to-do list' in my head....and I'd go right back to being unsure that I am ready to give it all up. 

The last 2 months have been a constant experiment in listing the pros and cons: 
Pro:  I live in a travel mecca, with tons of countries at my fingertips
Con: I am a 7 hour plane ride away from my friends and family
Add the relationship rollercoaster to that and its a recipe for a meltdown.  And after 4 weeks of heart to hearts with my best friends, drunken nights with my girls, and qaulity time with my family, I am still no where near a decision or a plan. 

Even though I didn't find the answers in the comfort of home, I did find some sort of self, granted its a lost me but it's still a bit more of me than before.  The parts of me that are built and strengthen by the comfort and love only your family and closest friends can provide. And if nothing else, those 4 weeks allowed me to realise, I am not alone. We all seem to be searching for the answer to 'what now?'

Don't call it a resolution....

I'm not into the whole resolution thing, mostly because I'm not a fan of setting myself up for failure but every New Year I select a resolution out of my go to list A: Lose weight B: Quit smoking C: Set a budget and stick to it!   Instead of a lofty resolution that I will stick to for a mere month, I'm making a to do list.  Maybe this way, I'll knock a few off before 2013

1.  Visit at least 5 countires...I have to if I have any hope of hitting 30 before 30
2.  Blog at least 1x week....I really need to stop slacking on this
3.  Visit Liverpool, Manchester, the Cotswolds, and the Lake District
4.  Write 100 pages of the book I keep saying I'll write one day
5.  Get a full time job

I'm sure there is more I should add but that's a decent start for now

The last few weeks have been a blur between trying to get through a full day of work without hiding in the bathrooom for a cry to attempting to pick up the pieces of a life planned.  None of this has been helped by the constant rollarcoaster that has become Beni and I.  Neither ready or able to let go of the person we hoped to build a life around, we have manged to get back together, break up, and date again all in a span of 2 weeks.  Some moments have been reminders of why we were together in the first place and others were hints of why we could never work.  It's become an exhausting pro and cons list, only made worse by our imminent departures.

As part of my attempt to get off the ride, I booked a ticket back home for a month, a move that is admittedly half self preservation, half running away.  And incase none of this was enough, Beni will be returning to Albanian for an unknown amount of time, a move that is half family duty, and half unfair family selfishness.  So with the clock ticking, we have been trying to repair our cracked relationship and come to terms with what may be a very long seperation. 

And all the while, I can't help wondering if the trust has been broken beyond repair.  For me even the good moments have become clouded by doubt and every comment has been laced with a hint of uncertainty.  So the only question left is can love be enough to overcome the fear of being hurt again....or should we cut our losses and try to move on...

I have no idea what the answer is but I'm counting on the fact that a month surrounded by my friends and family will get me a bit closer to figuring it out....

The deep divide

Sometimes things end as beautifully as they began, they take an unexpected turn, and those decisions will leave your life forever changed. I didn't expect the feelings that followed a passionate kiss almost 2 years ago, just as I didn't expect the heartbreak that followed. But with each act, my life is and will be changed forever. In the beginning it was making room in my dishelved life for another and now I will have to find a way to fill the empty spaces he has left. But there aren't enough tchatkis in the world to fill the space, its as if that picture has hung on the wall forever, the outline of something removed is impossible to miss. It's become a constant reminder that things went too far and things have changed without my permission or desire.


But there were one too many fights and one too many differences to keep the pieces together. Neither of us are without blame or fault and we will both have to live with thoughts of what we could have been. Our goodbye was filled with as much love, compassion, and comfort as our hello. Forehead to forehead, entwinded on the couch left us both wondering if we could every really allow the space to come inbetween our embrace. But his fear and my mistakes have driven a deep divide between us, so deep it may never be filled in. It is not a choice I would have made but it is one I will have to live with. I could see in his eyes that he was still the same, that he had not stopped loving me. His words promised that we would be forever connected, forever friends, and forever in the heart of the other. A fact that offers no consollation to how I feel now. But he is not himself, he is broken, and despite all efforts he cannot seem to find the strength or reason to put himself back together again. I can't stop myself from hoping there is a fresh start for us but I know that even time and space may never bring him back even if he wanted to.

But at least for one last time, we meant every hug, every kiss, and could ignore the space between us. I loved him across all borders and boundries but for now it isn't enough to fix it. I will have to find a way to start over, move on, pick up the pieces and try to make London a city that is mine, not ours.

I haven't been sleeping much, I can't seem to turn off the internal calculater, constantly talleying up my student loans.  It took about 2 days after finding out I passed, for the panic to set in.  Further intensified by a few threatening emails from the all powerful loan corporations.  In my best efforts to man-up, I called Citibank to discuss options aka cry my way into a deference extension.  Apparently, Citi understanding the time are tough, sympathizing with the American student....eliminated all payment plans, consolidation, forbearance, and anything else that might ease the pain of overwhelming debt.  So, I am instantly behind... as if $180,000 in loans wasn't enough of a handicap.  I'm trying to turn this into handicapable... but its not working, how is anyone supposed to recover from this?  I mean I knew it would happen, the debt would catch up, but I thought somewhere out there, there would be something in place for people like me.  No wonder the Brits were up in arms over tuition increases....they saw it was one step closer to opening Pandora's box aka America's education system.  I don't know how much longer I can hold out hope that my 8 years of education will get me anywhere near where I need to be to pay Uncle Sam back.....

On top of having to beg another bank to take my debt and set up a payment plan....I am flathunting.  It would be exciting, except I am 2 weeks away from being flat-less.  My fingers and toes are crossed that something, anything, gives....

Masters #2

Please hold the applause, we've done this a few times before but I swear this will be the last time.  Well that's unless I have a heart attack the first time I see the student loan bills, then and only then will: PhD have a nice ring to it!  I kid, I kid, I'm never doing this again.  I must admit, I struggled with this last one, for no other reason than a severe lack of motivation and inspiration.  I used up all my scholarly interest long before the dissertation was in.  In true slacker fashion, it was printed 10 minutes before the deadline.  It took a week of all nighters to finish something I didn't love but no sense crying over smudged ink.

I don't know how my procrastination didn't bite me in the ass, I was sure it would one day...luckily, it hasn't yet.  I have officially passed my dissertation with a what I think is a merit worthy score.  So tonight I can officially enjoy a drink as Gwen, BA, MS, MA......

School days are over....FOREVER!!

Now off to celebrate my freedom!