The Heart Break Files, part 4

Day 3 – I had a weird dream about Jesse last night and damn it! I am not over it. Oh jeez! As I write this, the Rick Springfield song, Jessie’s Girl is on the radio. Is that a sign? Anyway, back to the dream. In it, I stole Jesse away from his girlfriend and then used magic to shrink him to a tiny size so that his girlfriend wouldn’t find him. And I ran him all over the place, trying to keep him for myself but in the end, I ended up sitting across a table from her with him, standing on the ground behind me and I could see how much she wanted him in her life so I gave him back and reversed the spell so that he grew to be the normal size. What the heck does that mean? If I recall, you are supposed to represent every person in your dreams so, was this my subconscious saying that running around, wanting to keep him for myself was making me a smaller person? When I gave him back, was that sort of like me processing through the idea of finally moving on? And, why, when I come into work everyday do I totally agonize over him, day in and day out? You would think, getting over someone you had not even seen in 8 years, let alone heard from would be a breeze. Am I just emotionally inept? I am beginning to think my heart is pretty lame.

I keep looking at the 7 stages of grief, trying to figure out where I am.
· Shock or Disbelief
· Denial
· Bargaining
· Guilt
· Anger
· Depression
· Acceptance and Hope
Pretty sure that I float all over the first six without really spending any time in acceptance and hope. I wish that the grief process were a little more straightforward.

I went from a long meeting straight to lunch which helped me limit my thoughts but, at lunch, I met up with my little sister who is in the middle of her own life crisis so, I thought we would focus on those but the first questions she had were about my MySpace message about being depressed and I gave her a quick run down and she stated, in what felt like a sharp stab in my heart, “I always thought he was the one for you.” It hurt and it resonated with me through the rest of the lunch. I talked about my epiphany last night and how I realized how much I had grown since then and how Ruben had been great enough to stand by me and while I wasn’t sure who my soul mate was anymore, I was sure that that kind of support was something. Ok, what’s the deal with 80’s stations airing the same songs in the same day? This is the second time Jessie’s Girl has played and I’m starting to wonder if it’s a coincidence. That’s the problem with being left with your own thoughts too long, they eventually start rolling into one big cluster of a mess and before you know it, you think there is a meaning to EVERYTHING. I need to focus on something else.

The beauty of getting over the men in my life in the past is that I never had to continue living while I tended to my broken heart. I could stop everything and focus in. This time I have account executives in my face, worrying about co-op clients and I have a payroll to review and kids who want to play and a husband who deserves my attention. They all fight for attention right now as I try to steal away and hurt for a bit. I still have not cried yet and I really feel like I need to. I'm just really afraid that when I do take that time, I may not be able to turn off the water works.

The evening was harder than I thought. I made dinner and by time I had sat down, all I wanted to do is hide. I wanted to sleep my grief away. I ate dinner with the family and I gave my best attempt at being awake but by 8, I had convinced Ruben I needed a nap. I lay down and the memories of holding Jesse flooded in. I remembered his tender kisses and keeping my arms wrapped around his waste, under his jacket to keep warm. I would nestle my head into his chest and breathe him in. He tucked his face down into my hair and I could feel him smelling in my blonde waves.

I tossed over, on to my side, trying to wash the thoughts from my head but then came the rage. I saw Jesse and I sitting in his little beat up Nissan truck in a parking lot behind a Baskin Robbins. It was a cold winter day and I had on a sweater and a jacket but was still shivering from the cold. I asked if we could turn the heater on but he shunned the idea with an explanation that gas was not cheap and if he turned the heat on, we wouldn't be able to get home. Which, in looking at the gas gauge at the quarter mark and knowing we lived just a few miles away, I knew this was complete garbage. He lit up a cigarette and I stared out the window, angry with myself for being in love with such a jerk.

I woke up around 10. I was still tired but felt terrible about having left Ruben to put the kids to bed by himself. We watched the comedy channel and then went to bed. I knew I was starting to head into more than a flirting relationship with depression as I rested on my pillow. I could sleep through the entire weekend if someone would let me, I thought.