One Week After

Well, it didn't feel how I expected it to. I guess I anticipated too much. The last week was wreathed in the vague numbness of depression. We finished up our bucket list of things we wanted to do together-- visit the Flower Conservatory, eat at a favorite restaurant, visit a certain soju bar in Japantown, try a classic diner on Market, have a last quiet night in. Except for the part where we fit an entire full-size mattress into the back of Jack's Camry by folding it in half and shoving it in unison, the move Saturday was uneventful. The goodbye Sunday morning was poignant and tear-filled, in spite of my persistent sense of unreality. I spent the rest of Sunday watching TV, trying not to think about anything. The weekend gave way to a strange trip of a week.

I've done something extremely social every day since saying goodbye. I played ultimate frisbee Sunday night and chatted afterwards until late. I visited my coworker Matt in Oakland to watch Breaking Bad and had a great time talking with him and his people. On Tuesday, I had a proper "roommate dinner" with my new roommate Carolyn and we talked for much of the evening. On Wednesday, Cory Logan picked me up in his motorcycle to hang out. I ended up making a new friend, spending the night and being late/hungover for the next morning's staff meeting at work. We played another game of ultimate on Thursday night. Friday, my whole workplace bussed off to go-cart as a team building exercise. I'm still sore from the go-carting, which was incredibly fun and instigated me to talk with many different people at work.

I've spent a decent part of each day in a plain rotten mood, angry at the world for any reason I can find. I've also had some very intense experiences listening to music. Yet, there was never a moment when I was as crushingly sad as I remember from my last breakup. I've felt bizarrely unfazed. I even feel a little guilty for it. A friend of mine was enough of an asshole to suggest maybe I didn't love Sarah as much. I don't think so. I do think this may be an easier breakup; because it's not my first, because our relationship lacked the self-conscious co-dependency of Jill and I's, and because I'm more mature.

So the week has pretty much been an even split between intense music listening experiences, hating everything and positively ecstatic social experiences. Like I said, it has been a strange week. Today is the first day I've really been alone, which is probably good.

I still take the N line to work every day and every time I pass the apartment I crane my neck to look for Sarah, or even Mary smoking or the crazy dancing chinese hat man-- anything to prove it wasn't all just a dream. I keep seeing girls who bear resemblance to Sarah. I had this thought that maybe Sarah had just split into shards of people and dissolved into the tapestry of San Francisco. I keep rating girls' attractiveness and keep being disgusted by how many are ugly. I look at couples with envy. I haven't had any really terrible dreams. This week has taken so long to pass. It's a sort of purgatory. I don't know if I want this all to be over with or if there's anything to be over with or if I like it this way. Maybe this is life, now. It will be for awhile, anyways.

A few people texted me in the middle of the week, "How are you holding up?" I figured they could wait until this blog post. My mom gets the award for calling me the day we'd broken up and taking the opportunity to suggest I become a patent attorney or at least think about my financial future. After being confused by my hostility, she promised to never bring up finances again. I tried to explain to her, "No, Mom, by all means talk to me about my career future occasionally, but please think about your timing. You're kicking me when I'm down." The thing is, Mom specifically broached the subject because she thought it was an ideal time since I'm now unattached. You're a gem, Mom.

I have Bri visiting to look forward to. And I've decided I'm going to make absinthe. Not with European ingredients or according to a recipe, but with my own invented recipe using native Californian coastal sagebrush (a close relative of wormwood), other native or naturalized herbs, and green cardamom and Thai basil, which I plan to pick up tomorrow in Little Saigon. I'll tell you how it turns out.

It's hard to aggressively make friends when you have someone amazing to come home to, so I am approaching my new singledom as an opportunity to make friends here in San Francisco and strengthen existing friendships. Judging by my first week, I am off to a good start.