Tonight was... surreal. Tonight was one of those nights I need to get down in writing, or I won't quite remember it. Tonight, I had feelings and memories I couldn't share with any of the people I was physically with, and felt I had no one to reach out to to share. Surreal is really the absolute best way to put it. I'll say it again. Surreal. I'm a little tipsy.
I went out with my roommate, her cousin, and her cousins friends. We started off at a bar in Union Square, but after happy hour, were unable to get a table for dinner, as everything was reserved for the Yankee game. Instead, we headed back to Williamsburg, where we traveled up and down Bedford looking for instant seating. Unsatisfied with our options, we headed deeper into the 'Burg, landing at Mulholands Sports Bar. Walking in, I felt an odd sense of familiarity. We squeezed through the packed bar, looking for a table, and as we approached the back, I noticed how strangely reminiscent I felt about the fireplace, black leather chairs, and backyard patio covered in brick, when it suddenly hit me - I'd been here before. It took me a few minutes of looking around and racking my brain to realize that the reason it seemed so familiar, was because it was. Damien had taken Travis and I there to watch a football game and drink some beers. I found myself viciously scanning the room, looking for anything else to jog my memory, or even for Damien himself, thinking to myself "I look great tonight, what a perfect time to run into my ex-boyfriends brother!". This was to no avail, and as everyone else decided there was no point in waiting, we made our way through the thick crowd.
We walked a block or two, and landed at The Lodge where, holy crap, I'd also been many a time before. Yes - this was Damien's favorite spot, and he lived right around the corner from it. Since the rest of my group had decided to eat here, I swallowed hard, fighting off memories of late summer nights filled with laughter and drunken love, and took a seat, strategically placed in the corner where I could view the entire restaurant. My dinner sat practically untouched and my beer could have grown cobwebs, as I spent the majority of the time scouting and people watching. My cohorts barely noticed, so I was safe from mockery and ridicule. I took my sweet potato fries to go, and left with no appetite. As we walked towards the subway, I looked at every male I passed, hoping to spot a familiar face in the drunken haze of a Friday night in Brooklyn. As I walked back to my apartment, a feeling of pure disappointment flooded over me. Was I still hung up on this? I haven't seen or heard from Travis in a year and a half, and we've been broken up for almost 2 years now - how could I not be past this?
It was then the words a dear friend of mine rung true - you never fully recover from your first heartbreak. Here I am, 25 years old, starting this new life, the world at my finger tips - and I still have these moments of weakness. Of missing him (or, at least, what he was). Perhaps I'm still recovering. Maybe I never will recover completely. Maybe these are the battle scars you carry until you find that right person - that person who takes away that hurt and that pain, and those vivid memories of you sitting on your bed, begging him to admit his infidelity while he swears on his life you're crazy for thinking such things.
People never realize how much I've been through - nor are they aware of my strength. Tonight, visiting and exploring these thoughts and memories, I realized some things. I'm doing okay - and though I feel a little bit lost right now, I'm headed in a direction, be it right or wrong, and I'm going somewhere. I'm strong, and I need to gain back more of the confidence I once had. And most importantly, I'm ready to put myself out there. I'm ready to face the world, head on, in a way I don't think I've done it before - with confidence in myself, and knowing exactly what it is I want. I know what I'm looking for, and I'm excited. I'm optimistic, and I'm ready to let myself let go have some fun. And it's about damn time.
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