Hey, did anyone see The Bachelorette last night? Can you believe that shit??? [spoiler alert] Trista picked Ryan! Ryan! Did anyone out there think she'd pick Ryan? I mean, seriously? Ryan was the right choice, but I was completely duped! I thought for sure she'd pick Charlie! I'd even heard all this noise in the press about how she picked Charlie, and they edited it to look like it was all about Charlie, and then she goes and picks Ryan! Wow. Well played ABC, well played. It was really very sweet, too. Too bad love is a sham and pretty soon one of them will be fucking rejected by the other and they'll both end up embittered and hateful.
Anyway, it's Day 2 and I'm still dumped. I promise this journal won't turn into a daily harangue about love being a lie and me being angry and miserable, but for now? Life's given me some lemons and I'm dead set on a big, fat piece of lemon harangue pie.
I believe I've officially entered the Kubler-Ross stage of grief known as "Fuck YOU, you MISERABLE FUCK! I hate you! No, wait, I don't really mean that...I'm just resentful right now, and I understand that you just weren't happy being with me, and I certainly don't want you to be unhappy, and I can't force you to stay with me. I mean, obviously. OBVIOUSLY, because you DUMPED ME, you STUPID SHIT! Never mind. You were within your rights to break it off, and I should be a grown-up and just deal with it. No! Fuck growing up! WHAT'S SO WRONG WITH ME, ANYWAY???"
Actually, I'm not sure where I fall on the Kubler-Ross scale. I sort of hit all five points at the same time and bounce back and forth like a game of emotional Arkanoid. And the stupid thing is that it's not like my 15-year marriage just collapsed, or anything. We were dating. For two weeks. TWO! I'm used to being single -- I'm sort of known for it, actually. Not that I'm entirely happy with that fact. Anymore. And while we're on the topic, TWO WEEKS!
All it took was TWO WEEKS for him to decide it was just all pffft! On Friday, he was all, "I think I'd like to keep you around for a while," all shy and blushing and sweet, and he gives me this Valentine that says he hopes it's the start of something great, and then two days later it's all, "Oh, I can't talk right now, I have to go!" and then it's, "Sorry, it's not going to work out." Huh? Wha? I'm not trying to be na�ve here, but...huh? Wha? And he said that he "realized" it "wouldn't work" when we went out with May Day on Saturday and it "didn't bug [him] that there was a third person along on our date." I reiterate: huh? Wha? Dude, you're the one who invited her! So of course poor May Day felt guilty about it, but I assured her it had nothing to do with her in particular. If it hadn't been her, it would have been someone else. Oh, fuck.
Screw it. I'm going to shorthand this whole Kubler-Ross process for all of you who don't really know what the hell it is. In brief, it is the widely-accepted module of the Five Stages of Grief through which we all filter our losses. Here are the five steps, in toto:
1. Denial
"You know, the truth is that he really does have feelings for me. In fact, those feelings are probably so strong that he's just scared! That's it! Totally. He's frightened by the fact that he likes me so much, and he's scared of commitment, and he's trying to sabotage this thing we have because he just likes me too much! I'm still a valid person, and our connection was still real and vital and I didn't just imagine it all or completely demean myself by falling for someone who didn't feel the same way in return!"
2. Anger
"Fucking FUCK! How could you DO this to me?? What the hell do I have to do to make someone happy, huh??? Oh yeah, I feel so fucking bad that this whole DUMPING ME thing was HARD on you, you turd! And don't give me that shit about how sorry you are and how difficult this is and how special I am and how you like me as a person, because I DON'T CARE! That doesn't mean jackshit to me! This is difficult for YOU? Whatever, toolio! At least you've still got some dignity left to wrap yourself in when you go out and MEET SOMEONE ELSE! Don't give me that "sad" routine, either. You don't get to be "sad". You don't get to miss me."
3. Bargaining
"Okay, God, I promise I'll be good! I swear it! I'll give up the drink, I'll give up coffee and reality TV, and I'll read the bible every day if You just let him call me and say it was a mistake! I'll go to church! I'll stop making fun of people...okay, I'm sorry, I know, I shouldn't lie to You. But as soon as I can, I swear I'll do charity work and smile at babies and call my mother every Sunday! Just please, please, please let this be a big mistake!"
4. Depression
"Right, then. I knew this was coming anyway. I mean, why wouldn't it? I've been dumped before, you know? Plenty of times. I'm always getting dumped. I'm such a worthless schlub. No one ever feels anything for me, and why should they? Look how pathetic I am! We dated for two weeks and he realized how much of a loser I am. Two weeks and I'm already certifiable about it! Who wants to deal with someone this neurotic on a regular basis? I don't even want to deal with someone this neurotic on a daily basis. Do I have any good qualities to offer? Like, at ALL? Evidently not. I'm always going to be the neurotic, sardonic best friend, and I'm never ever going to find someone of my own. Fuck it. Fuck it all."
5. Acceptance
"Fine. Whatever. It was two weeks. My life will go on. So it wasn't meant to be! It's not the first one that wasn't meant to be, it won't be the last. This isn't going to break me, you know? I'm a strong person, I've been through much, much worse, and at least it happened now before I actually did fall in love. Truly, what have I lost? An opportunity, and that's it. There will be more, and if there aren't? I'm still a good person with friends who love me. I can be fine with that. Eventually. Oh, fuck."
Well, step 5 needs a little work, I guess, but that's the bottom line. The fact is, I think I went through denial and bargaining on Tuesday before I got dumped (call me psychic), and then I spent yesterday doing anger. Today? Is depression. My least favorite part. At least anger is kind of entertaining, right? Well, hopefully acceptance is right around the corner. At the very least, Depression allows me to exercise the optional step 4A, which is Chocolate.
Mmmm...chocolate.