As @thatpatti so astutely said on Twitter earlier tonight:

missed a few doses of celexa this week and i’m really feeling it. sometimes i forget how much crazy it’s holding at bay.

My schedule has been all out of whack, so my morning routine of popping the peach pill, well it’s not exactly a routine anymore. I’ve been a negative nelly, everything everyone does bugs me, and tonight I started questioning everything and there I was, suddenly crying on the couch.

When I was with Brad, he used to have a hard time dealing with my negativity. I was always so negative, and little things seemed so heavy and burdensome. I was always complaining, and he, as the boyfriend, was tasked with having to lift me up. All the time. I used to get upset with him (surprise) and tell him he better just accept me as I am, I’m a complainer, deal with it, blah blah.

But now I realize I was crazy! Maybe not crazy, but there was something going on that Celexa has balanced out. I started taking it to deal with heartache after a breakup, but I’ve stayed on it because it’s never more clear how much it balances me out than when I stop taking it. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy a good complaining session, and I still get negative sometimes. But I don’t feel the weight of the world all the time, and I don’t drag my boyfriend down with me. Oh how much more enjoyable I might have been lo those many years if only I had discovered the problem sooner.

Then a night like tonight happens, and I feel just like I used to for so long. I was in between insurance coverages for awhile, and I missed a few weeks of Celexa, then once I got back on it, my routine was so thrown off that I missed several days recently. And now I can’t sleep because all I can do is feel this heaviness on my heart. A heaviness that I can’t identify or contribute to any one thing, but a heaviness that has me questioning everything and crying about it all.

I just need to get back on track. Keep the crazy at bay.

It’s been suggested (by someone who’s pretty in tune with web trends) that I redesign my site.* Brad, the ex (ok fine, he’s the one that suggested a new look), has offered to work on the behind-the-scenes stuff, but I need help with the visual design. I have no talents in this area. I know what I think looks good, and I believe I have good taste, but I don’t know how to actually create it.

For this space, I don’t want to use a template, and I also don’t really want to buy a design that is available to anyone. I’d like something original.

So I ask you, dear readers, do you know anyone who could do this? And who won’t cost a fortune of course. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Maybe a new design would inspire me to write more than thrice** a month.

*For the record, I still rather like the look of this blog, but I admit, it doesn’t feel fresh anymore.

**Such a great word!

Last night I had a dream that Brad, my ex-boyfriend, was breaking up with me all over again. It was a wretched feeling, and I remember feeling this overwhelming dread that I was going to have to go through it all again. The depression, the sadness, the lonliness, the emptiness, the deep dark dread of every day.

I woke up with the remnants of those feelings still lingering. And then I remembered where I was. I rememberd Mike and how happy he makes me and how we’re getting married in five months. And how I feel really happy with life right now.

And holy shit was I relieved!

I’ve been reading Kirtsy for awhile now. It’s a good way to see what’s new and interesting on the internet. So a long time ago (I’m not sure how long anymore…), when the editors announced they were creating a book and asked for book title suggestions, I threw out an idea.

Kirtsy: Take a Bow

And then I forgot about the whole thing. That is, until they announced the decision they’d made some time later. They had combined a few different suggestions and came up with: kirtsy takes a bow. a celebration of women’s favorites online.

As you can probably tell, one of the ideas they used was mine, and as a result I would receive a free copy of the book AND I got to contribute a piece to be published in it.

I submitted a few pieces from my blog and included the URL in case they saw something else they’d like to use instead. I had no idea what they were looking for. None at all. So I submitted a variety of pieces, from heavy to humorous. But, it was so long ago that I honestly don’t remember what exactly I sent. When the book showed up in the mail last week, I started sweating because I had no idea what I was going to find.

I mean I was being published. In print. And I had no idea, out of all the things I’ve written on this blog in the last five years, what I was going to find when I opened the book.

Turns out they selected a post called “Insignificance” that I had written in the wake of my breakup with my ex, Brad.

(That is not a picture of me.)

As I reread the piece, it seemed so strange. I’m so far from that time and those emotions now, so it’s almost surreal to see those words somewhere other than my blog archives. I guess this is one good thing that came out of that hard time (along with the obvious, as the Giraffe pointed out: “You had to go through all that to find me”). It got me published! Ok actually the fact that I came up with a witty title suggestion got me published because Lord knows I would never have made it into this book on my own merit, but the experience of feeling that heart-broken and insignificant gave me something to write that Laura Mayes (the editor) was able to stomach including.

And as much as I am being self-deprecating here, when I reread those words from the book, it so aptly expressed how I was feeling when I wrote it, and really, that’s a sign of good writing. Right?

Even though, I gotta say, this was the coolest part to see…

…it was also pretty awesome to be listed amongst some incredible writers.

Thanks Kirtsy!

One year ago today Brad and I broke up. One year and my how things have changed.

I still remember that weekend so vividly. He had moved out a couple weeks before. I had only stayed at his place once; he hadn’t stayed with me at all. Clearly things were not in a good state with us, but we had promised to give this new arrangement a fair shot. That Friday we went on a double date with my friend and her boyfriend (R&J)—dinner and the premiere of The Dark Knight. In the middle of dinner I turned to him and said “Wow I haven’t kissed you in forever” (because I hadn’t seen him all week) and I kissed him. That was our last kiss. When it came time to pay for the meal, we got in a fight. Details aren’t important anymore, but it was bad enough that we didn’t talk the whole time we waited in line for the movie. Poor R&J, we probably made them so uncomfortable!

During the movie I tried to make good by giving him his favorite Sour Patch Kids flavors and resting my hand on his leg a few times. But we still didn’t talk when the movie ended or the whole drive home. We got to my place, he came in, grabbed his overnight bag, said he thought it was a good idea if he left, I agreed, and he was gone.

The next day he was supposed to go to a family function with me, but I never heard from him. And I didn’t call. I went alone and made up an excuse for his absence. That night we finally talked—a painful gchat, mostly about whether or not to break up. We didn’t. We agreed to think about it, and he’d call me the next day with an answer.

Sunday, July 20, he called and he still wasn’t sure. But at that point I had enough self-respect to know I shouldn’t be with someone who “wasn’t sure” if he wanted to be with me. I told him so. And by the end of the conversation he had he ended it.

The next four months were painful (see July 2008 to October 2008 archives), and I couldn’t comprehend how I’d ever feel better. I think I knew I would eventually, but I didn’t see how. I stopped eating, stopped laughing. I felt empty and lost and alone. But eventually I took some good advice, started seeing a counselor and got on anti-depressants. I started to feel better. Not right away, but with time.

And now, a year later, I’m happier and healthier and more confident and comfortable than I ever remember being. Do me a favor and read that sentence again because it feels pretty incredible to be able to say.

Brad and I are still in touch, though we’re not the friends I hoped we could be. We email now and then, he helps me with technology issues when I’m at my wits end, he’s still behind the scenes of this blog, we see each other on the social networking sites. But I haven’t actually talked to him or seen him since, god I don’t even know. We met up once to talk, probably in November? But that was it.

For awhile I clung to the idea that he and I could reconcile. We both said that if, in at least a year, we were both in a place where we might be interested, we could maybe see. Just see.

It’s a year later, and neither of us is anywhere near being in that place. He’s happy with what he has going on, and I’ve found a happy life and an incredible guy. The Giraffe loves me so thoroughly, and I him, and we are both fully willing to do the work it takes to make this thing long-lasting. I never could have predicted a year after this, I’d be here, in this place.

But I sure am happy about it.

Usually I like to relax as much as possible on the weekends. So last week, when I knew the upcoming weekend was going to be busy, I was kind of bummed. Not bummed I guess, because some of my plans were intended to be fun, but just… wishing it didn’t all fall in the same weekend. It ended up being rather enjoyable though.

Friday
After work, the Giraffe and I went to my dad’s and hung out with my little brother while my dad took Des (his wife, my “step-mom”) out for her birthday. Little bro is a riot, so we had a good time.

Saturday
I had a 1-credit class from 9 to 6, which I was heavily dreading, but it was thankfully not so horrible. I even managed to talk myself and a friend out of the class around 3. We then managed to get ourselves (for free) into the Women’s Expo that was going on downtown. And it was such a lovely day that I was thrilled to be able to walk around the city. After the Expo, where we met up with another friend, the three of us walked to a little tavern for dinner. Post-food, we strolled back to our cars – it’s so nice to stroll when your nose isn’t freezing off! That night I chilled with the Giraffe for a few hours.

Sunday
This was supposed to be the day I deep-cleaned my G&G’s condo (where I”m staying – they get home this week!), but it was too amazingly gorgeous to be inside all day. A little cleaning got done in the morning, but then I had lunch with the Giraffe, his dad and his brother. And after lunch, I just couldn’t go home, I needed to be outside. So the Giraffe and I went miniature golfing!

The last time I mini-golfed (at that exact location even) was only a few weeks after Brad and I broke up. Robin and her boyfriend took me to get me out of the house, and I remember feeling shrouded in sadness, but trying to muster as much enjoyment as I could. I laughed and smiled, but it felt so forced. This time, I had so much fun. Geuine fun. It’s amazing how much has changed in seven months. After putt-putt, we decided to sit outside and read, and then I fell asleep. Then, finally, FINALLY I got around to cleaning. The Giraffe offered to help, and he is one bad-ass cleaner. So much better than me! In fact, he’s such an efficient cleaner that we had that place glimmering with enough time left over to make a frozen pizza and watch a movie.

I have pictures that would help make this weekend recap much more interesting, but I never have time to sit down and get them off my camera. So just use your imagination I guess. See, there’s me sitting on a fake rock surrounded by fake green turf, holding a small putter and a bright green golf ball. Maybe I’ll post that photo later and see how accurate your imaginations are.

I recently noticed how many posts I have under each of my categories. It was an interesting look into my life. Or my blogging habits at least.

#1 – Brad with 281 posts
This makes sense as I was with him for three and a half years, and for about two of those he was basically the only person I hung out with. Therefore he was involved in almost every story I had to tell for awhile.

#2 – Just Stuff with 250 posts
This is my catch-all category. I could have called it Misc. but that was boring. This is where a post goes if it doesn’t fit into any of the other categories. So no surprise it’s near the top.

#3 – So Annoyed with 175 posts
If you know me, you’re wondering why this isn’t number 1. I’m a complainer – it’s how I deal with life. It’s like therapy for me. I complain and I feel better. Actually I’m surprised not every single post in the history of Doahleigh is under this category because surely there is at least a subtle complaint in everything I write. Or maybe I’m just not as complainy as I thought. Yeah, take that!

#4 – Family with 124 posts
This actually surprised me. I’m crazy about my family and love hanging out with them. And there is definitely no shortage of stories to be told, but I didn’t think I wrote about them that much.

#5 – My Anatomy with 117 posts
Yeah I like to talk about my body a lot. My boobs, my brain, my child birthin’ hips. Also my eyeballs and my ass.

The rest of the categories are still in the double-digits. But how about an update on the Top 5?

Brad – Well, that relationship is over and I’ve thoroughly grieved it, so there isn’t a lot to say anymore. Except that I’m feeling really good about what happened there – both during the relationship and post-breakup.

Just Stuff – Um… stuff is good?

So Annoyed – Lately what has been annoying me most is technology. Namely ridiculously slow computers (both at work and home) and faulty internet (mostly at work). My blood pressure rises many many many times a day while I wait for my computer to catch up with me. And I spend SO MUCH of my day waiting for the spotty internet to resuscitate itself. I swear slow technology will be the death of me. Aneurysm or heart attack most likely.

Family – I have lived back in GR for a year and a half now, and it was definitely one of the best moves of my life. I love having my family close by. And even though one sister moved a couple hours away, everyone else has managed to remain nearby (which is kind of rare for my family). When I count my blessings, the number one thing is always my family. I know how truly blessed I am to have one that I love so damn much!

My Anatomy – Ok, so the Monster Eye is back. Sort of. I think maybe my eyes just don’t like contacts. I’m not sure yet what I’m going to do. As for my brain (or my emotions)… well let’s just take two examples. 1) Two nights ago I sat in bed alone and thought about how sad I was six months ago, and just the memory of once being that sad made me sad enough to cry. By myself. For 15 minutes. It was so weird and so not me. 2) Last night the Giraffe was reading to me and he read the word “convinced” as “conceived” and for some reason this was the funniest thing I had ever heard. I couldn’t stop laughing, which of course made him laugh so he couldn’t continue reading. And we just sat there and laughed about basically nothing until my chest hurt. Although laughing at nothing is not uncommon for me, the whole episode was in stark constrast to the night before. I’m not usually such a rollercoaster.

I don’t know how to wrap up this post, so here’s a self-portait:

And because that felt sort of vain just now, here’s a sea anemone:

This is Part 3 (and the final part) of my little retrospective. Now all my unpublished posts from that time are out there, and I’m so done with it! This one is slightly more upbeat than Part 1 or Part 2.

“A hair better” was originally written on 8/27/2008, over a month after the breakup.

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I got a haircut earlier this week. I think that’s a good sign. I usually go about two months between cuts, and my last one was in April! I was already long overdue when Brad moved out at the beginning of July, and things were getting out of control when he broke up with me two weeks later. Then of course I didn’t care about my hair. It was long enough to put in a ponytail by then, so that’s what I did most days. For weeks I didn’t care. I didn’t care enough to even make an appointment, I didn’t care enough to even think about making an appointment.

Recently everyone started asking me if I’m growing my hair out. That’s how long it has gotten – I officially look like I’m growing it out. So on Sunday I finally called. I finally cared enough to call. And I actually cared enough to keep the appointment. Which means I’m going to have to care enough to do something with it everyday. No more ponytails. I hope I can keep caring.

I’m not going to lie, I’m still not doing great. But I think haircut is good sign. I’m getting there.

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Despite the positive attitude, I remember specifically why I didn’t post this. I wrote it on a good day , and I didn’t want to publish it and jinx myself, so I thought I’d hold on to it until a few good days in a row had passed. The next day was a very bad day, and I ended up writing this instead.

So the positive attitude didn’t last long. But I did manage to keep up with my hair. It hasn’t seen a ponytail in five months!

Yesterday I posted the first of three unpublished drafts that I wrote during my post-breakup depression. I don’t do this to keep dredging up the past, but rather as a way to celebrate how good I feel now, months later. And also because publishing these drafts is a final farewell (and fuck you!) to that awful pit of darkness I lived in for awhile.

This post, titled “My battle” was originally written on 8/18/2008, about a month after the breakup.

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In the last week and a half, I have realized that this is my battle and only mine. This pain is mine and only mine. I have a lot of people who know I deserve better than Brad and who want to be there for me—including my friends, my family and many of you who have left amazing comments or sent emails that have helped me figure out how to process everything—but in the end, I’m alone in this.

I went into my family trip last week expecting constant attention, love and support from everyone. I thought they would surround me and help heal me. But they all have their own lives, their own loves, their own things going on. They couldn’t really be there for me the way I thought I needed, and it was silly of me to expect that. This is my battle, not theirs.

My friends have offered their support and they are doing what they can to cheer me up, but everyone is busy and they can’t always be there when I need them and in the ways I need them. I know when some of them were going through their own bad breakups, I couldn’t be there for them the way they probably wanted me to be. Likewise, they are busy and their worlds don’t stop for me. This is my battle, not theirs.

Brad has very clearly moved on. And even though I’ve made significant progress in the last few weeks, I’m not there yet. I’m not completely past all of this like he has been the whole time we’ve been apart (even longer if we’re being honest). But again, this is my battle. Not his.

I have really good days sometimes now. Days when I know I’m better off without him, when I look forward to the prospect of meeting new people, when I believe in the possibility of finding someone better than him, when I really don’t care what he does or thinks or wants anymore. Then I have bad days when I just need to reach out to someone. And even though so many people have told me that I can call them anytime… it’s not their battle. It’s mine. And I think everyone else is just over it. I don’t blame them, I want to be over it too. So I just kind of hide the bad stuff now. Fake it till you make it – that’s what I’ve heard from a few people, so that’s what I’m trying to do.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful. To anyone who thinks I’m writing directly to them: you’ve been great. For real. Thank you. I would not have made this much progress without you. That’s what is weird about using this blog as a kind of journal. I have been writing openly and honestly about all this, but I’m still aware that people are reading. And so while my honest feelings right now are that I feel pretty alone and lonely, I still want anybody who sees this to know that it’s not your fault. You have been and continue to be incredibly generous and supportive. Yet I can’t help but feel like I really am fighting a one person battle against myself.

My partner, my teammate, the one I would normally turn to is gone. He can’t help me anymore. He has chosen to be on his own (or at least without me), and I’m fighting this battle to get better without him. It’s like I’m surrounded by people, amazing helpful people, but I’m isolated in the middle of it. Everyone is trying to reach out to me, I’m trying to reach back. Everyone is there, but I still feel like I’m alone.

Tell me that feeling goes away eventually…

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I chose not to publish this post at the time because I felt like no matter what, I would sound ungrateful. Even in my sadness I could see the potential for offending those who had been so supportive and helfpul. But this is just a piece that attempts to explain the loneliness of heartbreak. No matter how many people have gone through it before and no matter how many people are surrounding you with love, it is a very lonely experience.

I think it’s safe to post this now, but I want to say again… you guys all rock my world. And thank you.

It was almost six months ago that my relationship with Brad ended. I am still amazed at how far I’ve come and how differently I feel now compared to those awful dark months. While I was living it, those six months (especially the first four) seemed dragging and endless. But now, sometimes I think “I shouldn’t be feeling this good, it’s only been six months! Surely I can’t be fully ready to move on right?” It must be the drugs. Or maybe my fierce determination to feel truly happy again. I think I’m there.

Anyway, I was looking through some drafts that I had written during those hard months but never posted. I thought I’d publish them over the next few days, sort of as a retrospective on how far I’ve come (and because you may have noticed I have very little blogging inspiration lately).

I can still remember feeling and thinking these things, but I can no longer really relate to them. They are now my past. This one titled “Control” was written on 8/4/2008, two weeks after the break up.

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Every time I see the (1) on my Gmail tab, I still hope it’s him. Saying something to me. Anything. I can’t help it, I miss him and I miss hearing from him. I know that anything he has to say right now will probably be hard to hear. Because it will certainly not be “I love you, I made a mistake, please forgive me.” But I still hold my breath while I click over to the Gmail tab, hoping that he’s decided to reach out to me somehow. To say something, anything. 

I really hate that I have so little control in this situation. I know we had problems, I know that. But I thought after more than three years, maybe I would have had a little more say in how this happened. He consulted me, he let me know he was thinking about this, he asked my opinion. But he got to make the ultimate decision. And now he’s the one in control. He’s not using that control to hurt me, he’s just being honest. But when you’re the one who isn’t hurting, you get to be in control.

I’ve been there. When I broke up with my last boyfriend, he was hurting and I wasn’t. I was hurting for him (as I’m sure Brad is doing for me right now), but he was the crushed one. And I was in control. I got to cut him off and push him away. I got to tell him that it’s for his own good if we don’t talk right away. Brad isn’t doing exactly what I did, but he is in control. All I can control is my reaction to all of this.

And as you can see from the last few weeks, I’m failing miserably at that. This is not how I want to react, this is not who I want to be. But I haven’t been able to control even that.

I feel cheated out of something. I had a life planned, and every part of it involved him. I was offering him that, offering him myself (which, excuse me, is pretty fucking awesome by the way), and he turned me down. I don’t know if he’ll ever want it. But I know he doesn’t want it right now, and when he refused it, he took something away from me. He took away a big piece of me and my life. And that’s not fair. Why does he get to take that away from me? This wasn’t my idea, this isn’t what I wanted to happen. Not like this. Not now. I feel cheated.

I know break ups aren’t supposed to be fair or make anyone feel good, but somehow I think I deserve better than the way this whole thing has played out. I don’t know exactly what I would tell Brad to do differently because I believe that he genuinely hates hurting me. But I also feel like I’m still not getting the whole story. I still don’t really understand why this happened and what he wants to accomplish from it.

It’s true that nobody can tell the future, and it is possible that we will end up together again one day. But I’m completely confused about where he stands on that idea, and therefore I’m totally confused about how I want to approach that idea. So again, he’s in control. I just wish I knew more about what happened so I could take better control about what will happen from now on.

It’s been one hell of a year. But in the end, I have to say, a really good year. One glaringly significant event stands out, but looking beyond that I have some pretty good memories from 2008. I visited Minneapolis, New York City and the Caribbean. I successfully completed three semesters of graduate school. I spent a lot of time with my family and friends, which really, that’s the biggest blessing of all. I helped elect a new president who will hopefully do a lot of good for this country. And I turned 28, an age which I believe will serve me well.

I quickly pulled together a little photo collage of the year – one photo from each month. This is just a snapshot of the many things I did and enjoyed in 2008.

It was about the middle of the year that I experienced the worst heartbreak of my life so far. When my relationship with Brad ended, I was miserable and depressed for months. I hate remembering that feeling, but I know the experience made me stronger. It has been five months now, and I can honestly say that I am happier and that I feel better than I have in a very long time. Sometimes it seems so recent that I was curled in a ball on the laundry room floor, alone, unable to control my sobbing. But five months is a long time and I’ve come a long way.

This last month has been the perfect way to end this year. I spent my birthday with a large group of friends and family; I spent the holidays surrounded by so many of the people I hold dear; I’ve been having fun with someone new; and I’m spending tonight, the last night of the year, wearing pajamas, drinking champagne and hanging out with two of my sisters.

Despite learning the hard way what heartbreak feels like, I have to say…

It’s been a damn good year!

I hope you all can say the same, and I wish everyone a wonderful new year!

Apparently you guys didn’t find my “friend in common” thing very strange. Which, I guess in this small world it’s really not that weird. And really, it’s not so much the coincidence that I find so odd, it’s the way it made me feel when I discovered we were talking about the same Brad. It felt very revealing – I think your past relationships can say a lot about you. I even said to him, my date, that despite all our previous conversations, I felt like he knew more about me after the Brad realization than any time before. Which really wasn’t a bad thing, it just felt… bewildering. I’ve been bewildered a lot lately (I think I used that word to describe my reaction to seeing Brad on match).

Aside from dating, I’ve been doing A LOT of homework lately. But I’m actually starting to make progress. I can’t believe how few days are left before it all needs to be done, but at least I’m not at step one anymore.

Could my dating life get any more strange?

I went out with this guy (from match) for the first time last night, and one of the first things we discovered was that he grew up in the town I lived in for three years and just moved away from last year. He hasn’t lived there himself for several years, but he did go to high school there. Same high school as Brad.

So of course somehow it comes out that I have an ex-boyfriend from that town, and oh hey, maybe he (my date) knows him (Brad). I refused to tell him the name at first because how awkward right? But after a few hours of talking, I thought it would be fine to tell him Brad’s first name. That’s it. It was a pretty big school, they weren’t in the same grade – what are the chances “Brad” is going to be any kind of helpful hint at all?

As soon as I said it though, he gave me a look and asked me if Brad’s last name started with a certain letter. The exact letter that Brad’s last name starts with. Still though, there are a lot of people with that last initial, no way it’s the same guy. Oh no, it’s the same guy. MY FUCKING DATE KNOWS MY FUCKING EX-BOYFRIEND! What the hell, what are the chances of that happening? And not just knows him like saw him in the hall once or twice, they both participated in the same activity in school and so he knew him quite well. Oh and guess what. They’re friends on facebook. Like, have written on each others’ walls friends on facebook.

What do you even do with that kind of information? I mean when the topic of exes comes up it’s kind of weird anyway, but at least they’re just these abstract people in your mind. He told me a little about his last girlfriend, but I don’t know her name or what she looks like or what she acts like. Nothing. But he knows my ex’s name and face and personality.

We actually talked about it for awhile so I could process the whole idea, move on and enjoy the rest of the night. But still, it’s weird. That’s weird right?

Here’s a funny story. I signed up for Match last month, as you know, and Match has several different ways that you can find people. One of those ways is to do a straight-up search—enter your criteria (can they smoke? can they be Catholic? can they have voted for McCain? etc.) and then scroll through the returns. During my first couple days as a subscriber, I did one such search, and I was very specific, figuring I could expand later if necessary.

So I’m scrolling through my matches and there on page three, guess who I saw. Brad. Yes, ex-boyfriend Brad. Ex-boyfriend Brad who I was with for over three years but with whom, in the end, I couldn’t make a long-lasting relationship. Yeah that Brad. An yeah, it was odd.

Mostly I was bewildered. Not sad or shocked or upset. Just like “holy shit there’s Brad.” He was one face, a familiar face, in a sea of strange faces. It was… odd. Have I said that yet?

Back when we were dating, whenever an eHarmony or Match commercial came on, I’d ponder aloud, “I wonder if we’d match up on one of those.” Well, sure enough. Now we know.

I immediately emailed him and said that it’s been confirmed, we’re a 90% match. But I also quipped that we’re obviously evidence that a couple that looks good on paper doesn’t necessarily translate into a lifelong relationship. However, it did give me hope. If this website can match me up to someone with whom I had a great multi-year relationship, then surely it could find me some people to have fun with. Maybe even fall in love with?

Turns out Brad signed up a couple months ago on a whim, but hasn’t revisited the site since. He didn’t pay any of the fees and hasn’t been using it to date. Despite his inactivity, he has shown up in my daily emailed matches one or twice since I first encountered his profile. Every time it’s still very odd to his face mixed in with strangers. I don’t know anything about any of those other people. And I know just about everything about him. Odd.

It’s just so bizarre that we would be this great couple until one day we just couldn’t make it work anymore. And then we break up, and it hurts like hell. And a few months later we both get on Match to find someone new. And we find each other.

It was actually during this incident—the original one where he showed up in my search—that I knew how far I had come since the breakup. Before I knew he was not actually active on Match, I could only assume that he was dating and had been for awhile. To find that out and be okay with it… that’s a world away from where I was only a month earlier. And the fact that I could not only be okay with that, but go so far as to email him and ask if he’s had any luck yet? I mean come on, back in August I never would have believed you if you told I’d be doing that in October. I probably would have hit you.

But now I totally see that you were right. And it feels pretty fucking good.

I hate cleaning. My mom and two of my sisters are clean freaks—their houses are always spotless. I, however, am from a different school of thought. If it looks relatively decent, it’s clean enough. That means I only occasionally dust and vacuum, I wipe down the kitchen after cooking but it rarely gets a deep clean, and my bathroom never really sparkles. While I try to keep things picked up for the most part, I only really clean clean when I’m having company. And “company” does not include family or close friends—they get to see the real me.

Fortunately Robin is generally of this same school of thought. Our cleaning philosophies are about the same. Whenever one of us hosts book club, for instance, we usually do a little dusting and vacuuming. Otherwise we just try to keep the kitchen sanitary (we almost always stay on top of the dishes and the trash) and the junk put away.

So the other day when I got home and noticed that the apartment had been cleaned, I was befuddled. Did you clean? I asked her. Yeah, a little bit, she said.

Um… why?

She had no reason, just felt like cleaning. Thought it could use it. I’m not sure that I’ve ever cleaned just because I “thought it could use it.” There was the occasional Cleaning Day that Brad and I would declare when we lived together, but we had to feed off each other to get anything done. I’m not self-motivated with the cleaning thing.

So basically Robin was sitting home alone on a Thursday evening and she thought, “I’m going to clean the house.” Not screw around on the internet, not get lost in bad tv or a good book, not call up a friend to hang out. Clean. For no good reason.

I’m still having a hard time comprehending that.