"...even when love comes back, it still is not yours. You just get to exist with it. That has to be enough."
I fell out of love once.
It happened quickly. One day my heart swelled and the next it deflated like a New Years Balloon on January 8th, pathetic-empty.
I have written about this before. One day I was happy, looking forward to our future together and then I wasn't. I tried to explain this in a way that was fair but the truth is, there is no fair way to tell someone you don't love them anymore. People talk about how to manage divorce and breakups in an amicable way. Except if one or both parties still invested, the strings of their hearts entangled in the situation, I don't believe there is a way to really manage. It's just going to hurt. And then one day you wake up and it doesn't hurt as much. So many articles out there give advice on how to get over a breakup. First of all, I don't think you ever get over true love. If you love someone they change your DNA, man. They change the way you breathe. They change you and that's okay. I think that we need to transmute the language here, you don't get over a breakup. You just move on. Yeah, maybe you get over the guy from your local gym that brought you for pizza twice. But you don't get over the big loves, the ones that made you believe that your ribcage was too small to fit their light.
I have fallen out of love and once someone fell out of love with me. Both situations seem impossibly unfortunate.
This has taught me that love belongs to no-one. It is not something that can be owned. You cannot wrap a lasso around a relationship and expect it to stay. Trust me, I wish that you could. I love my boyfriend with everything that I have. If I could bubble wrap us together, I probably would. But I know. I know the tighter you hold, the less that you feel. There is a reason for the cliche, “If you love something set it free. If it comes back it’s yours. If not, it was never meant to be."
The problem with this saying is that even when love comes back, it still is not yours. You just get to exist with it. That has to be enough. I know how incredibly unnerving that is for the anxious and controlling among us. I can see your thoughts, my husband/girlfriend/boyfriend/wife is mine. That's just not the truth.
They only belong to them. You are a guest in their life. One that is only there as long as you are invited. Even marriage won't stop someone from leaving you. I swear I'll get to a positive point soon.
I'm in a coffee shop and the women behind the counter received a phone call from her friend. I soon later that they haven't talked in a while when she relayed the situation and phone call to her co-worker.
My ears perked at "God, Ellie, I'm so sorry."
I couldn't hear the other end of the phone conversation but I know her. She is me. She is my friends. She is every girl who was blindsided by someone falling out of love with them.
"He hasn't talked to you in how many days? You're moving out?"
My empathy barrels onto this page. How fucking sad is it when someone falls out of love? My empathy is for him too. I don't think a single human out there wants to fall out of love. I don't think they wake up one day and say to themselves, "I want to feel emptiness around this other human I have built a life with." I do believe there is a difference between falling out of love and getting into slumps. I believe that when you give someone your heart you should do everything in your power to make sure that a breakup is actually what you want before you carelessly take it back. Because sometimes love can kick-start again. See below. However, sometimes the wires get crossed, they get tangled like the cords behind the tv, and from personal experience, nothing can fix that.
It's just there is no good way to fall out of love.
The coffee shop girl, skin like clean charcoal, turns to her co-worker. "He told her that he doesn't love her anymore and that he's been thinking about it for months."
I used to be so angry at people who lead their significant other on, stringing them along for months, even years. It occurred to me one day that sometimes people aren't staying because they're scared or being cruel. They stay when they're trying - when they're hoping it will get better.
For Ellie and this guy. It never did.
I am so damn fearful that this will happen to me again. That fear won't stop time though. It won't stop the truth.
I am so incredibly lucky to have what I have right now and that is what I'm going to hold onto.
My biggest New Years resolution is instead of aiming to love people forever, I'm going to do a better job of loving them right now.
I'm not going to take my love for granted.
If it goes, I'll set it free...
Today was strange.
Well, most of my days are strange. Today, was top of the cake strange or maybe I should say it tops the cake on all of my other bizarre days.
It could have been the student with the machete or possibly the earthquake. I mean, the earthquake may not be that unusual in California but in Baltimore there is not a lot of shaking (the seismic kind at least. Twerking maybe).
I'm not at liberty to discuss the student & the machete. Except to say that it existed (maybe in my school - maybe not) and that just doesn't sit right with any parts of my gut. They always make announcements saying "Students... put your book bags in your locker. Teachers anything could be inside a book bag. Make sure students put them in their lockers." Here's the thing. I just didn't think that anything could be a freaking machete. THIS is not to confirm there was an actual machete in my school, because I can't confirm or deny that. I would just say, be comforted if the zombie apocalypse happens. We've got your back.
This blog is not about machete's or the 4.8 earthquake that happened in Delaware and caused some boogie breakdowns in Baltimore. No, this blog is about my stress level and my need to clean but no time to do it. Cleaning actually relaxes me. I still don't like it that much. People that really really like to clean freak me out. I don't like to deep clean, that's for the birds.
So ... that leads me back to the fact that I only had a small amount of time to clean my stress away.
I set a clock for 30:00 I knew that I was probably going to clean for a little longer than this. However, there is something about the countdown that makes me move quickly and efficiently.
you are bound to lose a little
Tip One: Throw everything onto your bed that you plan on organizing. This gets the floor clean and ensures that you'll do something with your clutter to make it less clutteryyy. You aren't going to leave it on the place you sleep. **I'm not saying that I haven't slept on dirty laundry because I have and I probably will again at sometime in my life but we don't need to discuss that right at this moment.
Tip Two: Hang everything that needs to be hung up, FIRST. For you non-messy folk, this isn't even a problem. You have some kind of magic wand that lets your clothes never fall on the floor to begin with. I don't have this magic wand shoved up my ass, I mean... in general I'm not able to keep that organized, so the pile happens. When the pile happens, I start by hanging the things that need to be hung up. Putting the clothes on the hangers goes relatively quick and if you don't have time to put them in their spots, you can find a place to hang the lot of it, and put them away properly later.
Don't get me wrong, my motto is - or was: Don't do something later that you can do now. However, I'm so busy that my eyeballs literally threaten me on a daily basis. My own damn eyeballs, IF you don't slow the hell down, we are going to pop out of your pretty little head." Eyeballs can be mean son-of-a-bitches.
Tip Three: Fold your messy shit into piles. Tanks into one. T-shirts into another and so on and so on. My Nana used to say that everything has a place and so in my room, everything does have a home, including the most random of objects, meaning I have a random objects bin. I don't have a separate space for each category of random things. I can only aspire to be that epic.
Tip Four: After putting away some of your messy shit take a few selfies and do some strange dances that you swear nobody will ever see until you realize that you left your blinds open again.
Tip Five: Label things that need to be done in regards to clothes. For example, there was a skirt that needed to be ironed. I clipped a post it note onto the hanger with a binder clip so that the next time I went to wear said piece of clothing I know that it is not ready for immediate use. This is not a necessary stop and can be skipped if you're lazy like me.
As you clean, put together a few outfits and find a place to hang them in your room. Now you're ahead of the game. Use these outfits through out the week. #bossstatus To make more room in my space I bought a hanging rack at target for $24! An amazing deal and purchase that I do not regret!
Messy & busy girls don't need just a dirty laundry bin. We need a dirty laundry bin andddd a clean laundry bin. This is supposed to help with the laundry on the floor bit. If I'm trying on a few outfits, I NEVER do what I'm supposed to and hang the clothes right back up. That would probably be the ultimate time saver.
Ok. Stop judging. This blog is for the BUSY girl. Not the totally put together, judgey girl.
The not really a tip, tip: I went to Chicago and then hopped on a plane to Ireland. I didn't have the time to clean my bags out in between and in the few weeks since I've gotten back, between graduate school and teaching, those bags were the least of my concern. I emptied three of the four today and threw the remaining crap in the last bag. That's what we call condensing. Now instead of four bags to clean out, I only have one left. HOW productive am I?
Throw as much as possible away. Really. When in doubt, throw it out. The 99% of the time that you are thankful you have less clutter will outweigh the 1% of the time that you find yourself wondering where that black hat that looked cute in the one picture from 2008 went.
So after zooming around my room like sonic the hedgehog, a miracle happened and I could finally see floor. I have really had to fight against the idea of "perfect" the last few years. There is a lot I want to accomplish and I have to sacrifice perfect in order to be the person I want to be.
I could totally have a clean house, only be a teacher, and go out occasionally. Except, I don't want a small, tidy life. I want a big, messy life.
This means that sometimes I have to set a timer and clean as much as I can in said allotted time. IT means that I have multiple laundry bins. I label things for later. It means that sometimes I find empty candy wrappers in my underwear drawer. Okay... I probably don't have to do that one. I. Just. Feel. So. Guilty (My name is Emily and I love sweets. It is (not) a problem).
Alright, what are you waiting for?
Put that timer on. Go. Go. GO!
What you'll find here:
A Dash Of Motivation
Emily Ann Hansen
I'm a writer and teacher living in Baltimore City. I'm originally from Chicago. I graduated from Columbia College Chicago with a BA in Fiction. Instead of babbling, I will list a few of the things in life that make me happy: