Ghosts of Boyfriends Past: A Lengthy Dissection of my Life as I Know It

Life is shaping up to be a lot different that I thought it would be.  Like, a LOT.  2011 hasn't treated me the way I expected.  The highs have been high, and the lows have definitely been low.  Round about January my lovely little dreams started falling out of the sky where I had hung them so carefully and shattering in piles at my feet.  Bummer.

For instance:  I was going to get married this summer.  I was.  There was no question in my mind.  But I'm not.  The relationship that I held on to so tightly for three and a half years ended rather abruptly.  The nights that I cried myself to sleep for loneliness suddenly held no meaning.  The hundreds and hundreds of letters that I wrote, pouring out my very soul, were for nothing.  I was single again.  Did I despair?  No.  I began a new relationship. It was great and perfect and wonderful, as was he.  I was so happy.  Until it ended too, leaving me alone again, just wondering where I went wrong and what I should do with these dream fragments on the floor.  Cue tragic playlist.  {Go ahead....give her a listen a couple of times.}

This post, however, is not about the ghosts of my boyfriends past.  Those ghosts are still a little too alive to casually discuss on my blog.  Maybe some other time.

The love (or lack thereof) example is not the only instance of life's curve balls this year.  It's probably the dream that hit me hardest on it's way down though.  I've been sad and lonely.  I've been confused and discouraged.  I've started to question what I'm made of.

I read this blog today and had to laugh {sardonically} out loud.  Forgive me for sharing my personal favorite part:

I'm pretty sure that being 22 and single in the LDS culture is the same as being 35 and single in the Regular People world--like, you start to wonder if maybe you should be getting your eggs frozen.

Well shoot friends.  I suppose that's me.  The thing is, it's kinda true.  At the ripe old age of 22, I have almost no single friends my same age.  My little sister's friends are starting to get married.  I went to a baby shower a few weeks ago, and the only other person there without at least one child was the girl that was seven months pregnant.  Am I ever behind the times.

I love my friends.  I am so happy that they're happy.  But more and more lately I find myself wondering bitterly when it will be my turn.  Being single is getting really, REALLY old.  The novelty left with all my single friends.  And even though it's never EVER right to assume that other peoples' lives are too easy, I am so good at being the Joan of Arc of singleness, burning at my stake and looking out at all those marrieds with their cute husbands and cute kids and telling myself that they don't know how good they have it.  {The difference is, these judgmental thoughts are not likely to get me 'sainted' any time soon.}

Enter ghostly boyfriends.  My old roommate's boyfriends to be exact.  Meet Caitlin.

With her blonde hair, big eyes and winning smile, she really couldn't help but be a bit of a serial dater.  All the boys always loved Caitlin, and she never had a dating shortage.  Caitlin was part of the mass roommate exodus of 2008-2009 and now resides happily in Albuquerque where she attends graduate school.  She doesn't run into the boys she used to date anymore, but I still do.  And it's usually pretty awkward.  With the exception of this one guy, Matt.  It's not awkward running into him, probably because they only ever went on one date and I've had more conversations with him than she ever did on account of the walk we shared to the Clyde building from time to time freshman year. I ran into him sometime last year shortly after he returned from his mission, and it took us a second to make the oh-yeah-you-went-on-a-date-with-my-old-and-now-married-roommate connection.  After we did though, things were cool.

I saw Matt today as I was walking home from work.  We said the casual 'hi' as we passed each other, and then from about twenty feet behind me I heard him yell, 'Hey, when do you graduate?'  to which I yelled back 'I already graduated.  I start grad school in the fall.'

And then I walked home in the sunshine, feeling mighty proud of myself.

Elle Woods has a line in "Legally Blonde: The Musical" that I really like these days: "Look how far I have come without anyone holding my hand."

The thing is, I'm going to grad school.  How many people do you know that can say that?  Probably just a handful.  And not just *any* grad school....PHYSIOLOGY grad school.  How legit is that?  And did I mention that they are paying ME for the pleasure of my attendance?

Not only am I going to grad school, but I am a self-sufficient adult.  I pay my own bills.  I finished a bachelor's degree at the age of 21.  I lived in Europe.  I take care of myself.  And I like to think I'm pretty good at it.  So go ahead, look how far I have come without anyone holding my hand.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about those shattered dreams.  It's time to start gluing broken dreams together.  I've decided to make a mosaic.  My life is going to be one fantastic piece of art when I'm finished.