Further reflections

Ah, 6 weeks after my last post, I think. Nearly 6 weeks, anyway. Back in the fold of America, of my family.

Xander and I have broken up. I'm sad largely because his comments on the relationship focus on the fact that it didn't work out, not on how much fun we had until he changed the day after (literally, the day after) we returned from our holiday in Germany. I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden he wasn't communicating anymore, the joy was gone from his eyes, and from us. So, three weeks of him shutting me out and I was still the optimist. In my eyes, a relationship is work, not always smooth sailing, but for some reason he was done. He just won't tell me why, but I suppose it was too much. I was too much. At any rate, I don't want to be involved with someone who shuts me out so early in the relationship.

So, that happened. Mostly because I started the breakup--he wouldn't do it.

And now I am trying to untangle the summer from my sour/sad feelings about X and me. It is hard to do that, but I know I must, and I also know that quitting my job and leaving Manhattan were things in the works before I met him, and maybe his role in my life was to make actually doing those things a little more pleasant. I can't help but feel a little pang of melancholy when I think of the Bauhaus Archiv or the Black Forest, though, and wondering if the "fun" we had was all put on, was imagined. Goodness.

Frankly, I have too much going on to even dwell, and I need to deal with getting my life back in order. I'm now freelancing (kind of a lot) for two different companies, and looking forward to my first paycheck in four months. I'm sorting out what I want to do to learn a living, and I'm also sorting out where I want to live. My things are in New Jersey, and my dad and I are headed up to pick them up next month. They will come back down here with me, and maybe I will feel less disjointed (more jointed?). Right now, I feel like pieces of me are everywhere--Holland, New York, Houston, even Spain, Italy. I need to get the lion's share of those pieces, gather them up to my breast, and mold them back together like a big pile of Play-Doh like I played with in England with my 2-year-old nephew in September.

Don't get me wrong. If this sounds melancholy or even morose, it's largely from being overwhelmed and undergrounded. I can't seem to get my first chakra balanced (have I truly tried?) and there have been so many big choices swimming in front of my eyes for so long that everything seems blurred and unstable. I'm very lucky that I have the chance to whip the rug out from under myself like this--it's healthy, and it's unusual. For having the choice, the support, and the success--I am infinitely thankful. And I know that I will be just fine. It's a process...but isn't everything?