What is up??

A girl from my a cappella group pointed out to me that my ex had posted youtube videos of the group two weeks ago. From a Christmas gig (shortly before we broke up - literally the previous weekend, I think).

This is the third non-contact contact. My reaction to each:

1. Smile, slightly triumphant
2. Roll my eyes at his rather pathetic inability to contact me, even though I mean, he must want to (no matter why it is he's been thinking about me lately).
3. Become slightly irritated that he is injecting himself into my finally exorcised brain.
4. Return to feeling triumphant.

I'm not sure if he wants closure, if he wants to know I'm not mad at him, if he wants to be friends...? At least one person has suggested he might want me back, but I seriously seriously doubt that. Not that his behavior is inconsistent with it, but he knows that we suck at communicating with each other and were miserable for like the last six months of our relationship. Even if he did want me back he'd never go for it, having begged for me to come back the first time we broke up just to have the same thing happen again 1.5 years later.

In the end it doesn't matter who is really at fault. It's over and I'm more or less the happiest I've ever been. The funny part is that I think if I had been even a B+ Rules Girl through that relationship, he'd have proposed a year ago. I'm not sure if that saddens or terrifies me. Perhaps even funnier, I have become a ton more like him in terms of my level of independence and attitude towards dating.

There were tons of incompatibilities pretty much throughout our time together. Just, tons. More than any boyfriend I've ever had, ever. I'd like to blame him for them - for his emotional immaturity, inability to set aside his family baggage and open up at all, brooding, consistent avoidance of conflict at all costs. I mean, I certainly own my part of it too - pressuring him, being insecure about everything, overanalyzing every action or inaction as a global symbol, forcing issues, being judgmental of his friends and family, overreacting when he did something irritating.

To quote my sister: Thank G-d that's over.

We "meet" again

Early on in our relationship, the Ex, who I met on Jdate, said he'd never go back on Jdate in our city. He said he had vowed that this was the last time, and then he met me when his subscription was about to expire.

The Ex viewed my Jdate profile last night.

It's nice to know he's single. And desperate given that he really didn't want to go back on there.

It's also somewhat amusing to know that he wants to make me aware of his existence without contacting me. He knows I will see that he viewed me. This is the second time he's done something like this, the first being in April when he nominated me for something that required me to put the name of my nominator on the application (I had to call the organization to find out who nominated me, which I'm sure they thought was strange). Aside from these non-contacts and my approaching him at a party for a 5-second conversation while wearing a blue wig, we have had no contact since the breakup on December 24. Digression: he did run into my sister on the train, and she pointedly ignored - almost snubbed him. My other friend almost ran him over with her car when he darted into the street. Typical.

Almost 6 months later, I feel like I sort of won at this breakup. I bought a house. I made myself a name in several organizations in the Jewish community (ironically, he nominated me to become more involved in one of the only Jewish organizations I'm not yet involved in). I've advanced in my career, though it's not exactly how I expected. I'm still single, but I have way more to gain personally from being single than he does, having been single most of his adult life except when he was with me.

I look back at when I was terrified to run into him, and it seems absurd. Now I'm almost looking forward to it - not because I wish him ill, but because I've come so far and want to stare my vanquished fear in the face.

Soundtrack: My Fair Lady, Without You; Lily Allen, Smile

Seriously, this is a good thing. Let me tell you why.

This morning I went to a Jewish organization's community service day where there were multiple projects. Most people had chosen a project in advance, but I had made a game-time decision to go so I went to the pre-project brunch and scoped projects. One looked really interesting to me until I happened to glance down at the table and saw facebook guy's name on a nametag for that project. Ruled that project out. Didn't see him at the brunch, but did a pretty damn good job of not looking. The project I ultimately chose was conceptually similar to the one I'd rejected because of fb guy, except much much less convenient in terms of location. No matter; I had a fantastic time, was in my element, and also got to use a pressure washer. If you have not operated one of these things, I imagine it is similar to the feeling some people get when firing a gun.

Badass.

I was quite upset over fb guy on Wednesday night, Thursday, and Friday morning (which I took off from work. But after a very busy Friday afternoon at work and giving a d'var Torah at services) I pretty much felt fine. I continued to pretty much feel fine through the weekend, even though his name and/or face kept popping up all over the damn place. These things were minor annoyances, not major heartbreaks.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize that fb guy and I really weren't all that. I mean, that hadn't been made totally clear yet, of course, but a lot of what I was daydreaming was so great about him was in my own head. This bothers me somewhat, because one of the main points of this whole deal is that I'm trying to work on assessing things as they are. But it's good for me to realize it.

It's also good for me to have proof that not all breakup-like-things are like my last one. (I realize calling this a breakup is a bit of a stretch, but I mean, he called me and told me he wanted to not date me in order to date someone else!) I was very upset at first, but I bounced back quickly and unscathed. Most likely part of the reason I was that upset at first was fear of how upset I had been the last time around. It's a huge relief to know it's not always that bad.

Finally, running into fb guy with someone else so immediately after he rejected me for that person, and not even feeling the least bit like I wanted to cry about it, is self-affirming, and good practice for eventually running into the real Ex.

So fb guy's role in my life was to put me up against some of my fears and cause me to realize that I can handle them.

And maybe, somewhat recursively, to bring me closer to understanding the Ex's role in my life.

I am not doing this to find a boyfriend

I have to remind self of this constantly when I am not returning calls and texts from someone I believe is a good guy, who I like, and who I think likes me.

I did not start this blog to find a boyfriend. I am doing these Rules to find myself.

That means meeting my insecurities, which cause me to try to control people and situations, head on.

Returning a phone call is hardly trying to control someone. I get this.

But down the road, I might freak out that he doesn't have a picture of me as his wallpaper, or hasn't asked to be in a relationship on facebook (despite my disdain for this practice). Down the road, I may throw a tantrum because his friends keep inviting him to weddings without his serious girlfriend and he doesn't seem to care. Down the road, I could well threaten to break up with him if he doesn't want to move in together.

I will scrutinize his actions and inactions, worried that they are all referenda on our relationship. I will listen to every nice thing my friends' significant others do for them and wonder why mine isn't doing the same for me. I will drive myself crazy, and once I have done so, I will drive him crazy.

Until I can trust myself not to be this worst version of me, I have to let go a little. Even of a guy I like. Even before any of these things are on the horizon.

"You will not lose something that you were meant to keep."

As if

You trust in the abundance and goodness of the universe...You're an optimist. You brush away a tear so it doesn't smudge your makeup and you move on! Of course, that is not how you really feel. This is how you pretend you feel until it feels real. You act as if! --Rule #1: Be a Creature Unlike Any Other

On Purim you're supposed to get so drunk that you can't tell Mordechai from Haman. The obvious symbolism here is that Mordechai = good and Haman = evil. To a lawyer, this immediately conjures up first year criminal law. Unable to tell the difference between right and wrong means you can't be held responsible for the crime you committed. Of course, most states specifically don't allow you to use voluntary intoxication as the reason you were unable to tell the difference between good and evil. But you get the point.

At Friday night Shabbat dinner the rabbi explained that the concept behind this requirement is introspection, reflection, dialing down your brain until you get to a higher level of perspective. You drink to go beyond the rational part of your brain so that you begin to confuse the good with the evil forces in your life, in the hope that you will come closer to sorting it out. I am perhaps adding my own spin onto what the rabbi said because I really identified with this and I hadn't really heard it quite this way before.

The rabbi also explained that in terms of amount, you are meant to drink as much as it takes you to "fall asleep from drunkenness." I would assume this means something short of "black out in the parking lot," but you can never be sure.

Let us rewind for a moment. Almost exactly two months ago my 2.5 year relationship ended abruptly. I have not seen or communicated with him since. I know from the unfortunate technological advance of facebook RSVP lists that I've listed myself as a "maybe" on Jewish events that he's been to, and vice versa. But never did our paths actually cross before yesterday.

I received a facebook invitation for a Jewish organization's Purim party, one I have attended in past years. He was listed as going. I had pretty much decided not to go; there were multiple other parties/Megillah readings going on that night, so why pick this one where awkwardness was a certainty? Then at Shabbat dinner a few of my new friends asked me to go. They also told me the theme of the party -- one that would allow me to buy and wear this neon-colored wig I have wanted an excuse to own for a really long time.

The desire to put off this unpleasantness was gradually outweighed by the thought of wearing a blue wig when I saw him for the first time. Per the rabbi, we wear masks on Purim not to hide ourselves, but to reveal our inner selves, at least to ourselves. A bright funky wig is not quite a mask, but looking drastically different from myself on this night seemed fitting. I'd be effectively in disguise, my most noticeable feature hidden, unrecognizable from a distance.

So I went. In a minidress and an electric blue bob.

Party #1: +2 alcoholic beverages

My M.O. at this party: approach people I already knew and talk to them, acting like I was a social butterfly having a great time. For the most part, this was genuine, I was having fun even though I had a constant pit in my stomach as soon as I happened to see him walk in (no eye contact, and I looked immediately away). My blue wig made me feel on stage through my queasiness, and made it much easier to "act as if."

I realize that being so overtly outgoing is somewhat in conflict with The Rules, but I concentrated my efforts on women and did not approach or begin conversations with men I did not know (or knew only minimally). I did unabashedly initiate conversations with the guy friends I knew well, but to the extent this was bending the Rules I excused it because of the unique difficulties this night presented. I tried very hard to minimize the looking around, and During the Megillah reading I pretty much managed not to look around at all.

Immediately after the Megillah reading I had to leave the party to go to another party. He had not approached me, and I was pretty sure the Rules would disapprove of me approaching him. The Rules are not entirely clear on this point, because if I'm not interested in reconciliation technically I wouldn't have to Rules him anyway; if I am interested in reconciliation the Rules allow for one light and breezy phone call when you know he's not going to answer his phone.

Calling when he's not in is crucial; you don't want to make him uncomfortable if he doesn't want to hear from you or is involved with someone else or even married. Leaving a message also allows him to call you if and when he wants to, which is the best start for any conversation between you. Your message gives him time to think and the option of not calling, which you must give him.

How this is possible in the age of cell phones I'm not sure. Leave a message at his work number on a Sunday? That seems bizarre.

In any case, this is mostly dicta because I am not in a position where I want him back. I admit I have my moments of wistfulness, but if he suddenly wanted to start over I can't say right now that I would be up for that. I have never seriously considered attempting the "one call for closure."

However, in leaving the party I recalled this rule and had my reasons for wanting to apply it by analogy in order to permit myself to initiate a conversation with him. Mainly, it was the feeling that if I left a party where we were both unequivocally aware of each other's presence without having interacted with him, it would cement a status quo of awkwardness and avoidance. As horrible as it feels to be at single events with him or even to imagine that scenario, I do not want that result.

After getting my coat, I strode back into the party room and looked demurely around the room for him. I spotted him quickly, with his friend (whom I run into much more often). I walked over, smiled, and looked at each of them in turn. I said "hi," directed at them both. In my brain, the next sentence was "okay, let's cut this bullshit. We need to be able to interact with each other." But the Rules restrained me from breaking character.

"How are you?" he said, with some undecipherable but meaningful expression in his eyes. Seeing him look at me that way and speaking to him like an acquaintance pained me, but my smile remained steadfast. "Good!" I said breezily. Looking again at the friend and addressing them both, I said "Well, I have to go to another party, but I didn't know if you guys would still be here when I got back, so I wanted to say hi."

The friend asked me where the party was, I told him, he said that was far, I said yes. Then I said to both of them, "it was good to see you guys," and left acting "as if" I was perfectly content with myself and the world and his presence in it.

Party #2: +1 alcoholic beverage

Driving to my next stop that evening, I felt a major adrenaline rush. I was high on courage. I was drunk on my own strength contrasted with what I perceived as affirmation of his weakness. I went to party #2 and reveled in my friends' positive reaction to my outfit.

As the night wore on, the initial euphoria wore off and I began to miss him. I wished that seeing me would trigger in him a desire to contact me, to talk to me, to be with me. I ached thinking of the sudden and total loss that had befallen us two months before, feeling like it was yesterday.

Party #3: +2 alcoholic beverages

Even then I forged on acting "as if." Instead of going home and crumbling, I tried to go back to the first party. It had already ended, so I bugged a few friends to go to my favorite dance club with me. My heart wasn't exactly in it, but I kept on going. In my thoughts, painful memories and inclinations towards regret intertwined with a profound appreciation for the friends who came out with me, the friend I voicemail-spammed in between the two parties, my family.

At 107 pounds, I'm not quite sure how I put away 5 drinks on Purim and didn't get what I would call drunk. "Boy, you can hold your liquor," my friend said at 3:10 AM when I drove him home. Yet I did feel a heaviness in my head as I entered my apartment. I quickly drifted off upon laying down, perhaps achieving the "drink until you sleep" mitzvah.

I dreamed about the party: he and I were standing back to back, each talking to other people. We occasionally touched by accident, and he turned around and spoke my home address as if he wanted to go there. I asked him why. He responded in a way that confirmed that he did not want to get back together.

The day after: +0 alcoholic beverages

I woke up too early, mildly traumatized by the dream. I mentally rejected the great life I have been building for these past two months, and instead submerged myself in wrenching disbelief that the upshot of all my blue-wigged fearlessness the night before amounted to a mere two-minute cameo. I missed him. I missed our relationship with all its problems. I sent my inconveniently abroad best friend a novella of an e-mail. Then, I put on a sweater dress, makeup, and a smile, and went to brunch with my best girlfriends, once again laughing, recounting stories, and acting "as if."

In the afternoon I went to visit a friend and her baby. At the end of a very pleasant conversation, she asked me how I was doing with the breakup, a question I would have answered "great" to a few days before. I was surprised at the tears that spilled out, but let them come. In that safe space, I purged myself of the weight bearing down on the shaky foundation propping up my bold, confident armor. Then, I stood up, hugged my friend, and went to meet some others to speak the foreign language I studied in college. I acted flawlessly "as if."

Weary at the end of my Purim day, my stirred-up emotions turned into questions. Did I unmask my true inner strength when I advanced, determined, towards being the bigger person? Or did my rekindled backward glances reveal an inability to overcome?

Am I furious and bitter at a Haman who hurt me or longing for a Mordechai who does not exist?

Draining as it was, acting "as if" each time faded into feeling "as if." Resolution of these inner conflicts does not occur overnight, but I daresay I am a rung higher on the ladder of self, where "as if" is unnecessary at the top.