A Dear John post (because):

1. I have to move that two-posts-ago post down even further. Ew.
2. I need somewhere to word-vomit, and my Twitter isn't good for that any more because I have professional-types following me. They don't want to hear about silly cute boys.

Dear John,

You just called me. Just to chat. I was at work. We mindlessly chatted a bit. You told me you just had a lot of thoughts about "us" you wanted to tell me. I said I'm nervous! You said, don't worry, it's good. I said I can't concentrate at work and I'd call you on my walk to the train. You told me that's fine.

Now I'm nervous and jiggly and glancing at the clock every three seconds.

And hoping that this post will let me stop thinking about it and actually accomplish some work.

Love,
Heart

What is the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach?

Oh, yeah, it's jealousy.

OMG. Seriously. I'm about to write an actual coherent post on LOMB, but I had to get this out first.

Dear John,

I am so grossed out with myself right now. Let's see if I can describe this concretely, like I was trained so well in poetry class to do.

It started in my stomach. Butterflies isn't right, and it's also cliche. And "nervous" isn't concrete. But everyone knows what nervous feels like, right?

Well it started as nerves, in the outer film of my stomach, but seeped deep and rose high to my throat really fast. Except once it was in my throat, it sort of felt feverish. My eyes blurred a little bit, and I got a mini-chill.

I wanted to throw my laptop at the wall. But instead of moving the offending thing from my eyes, I kept clicking through - looking at picture after picture.

I'm talking about Facebook stalking, of course. Of you. On a "semi-formal" sort-of-maybe date. With another girl.

Well, duh, of course it would be another girl. And technically - technically!! - this is a-okay. Perfectly acceptable. Definitely encourageable, actually! I, of course, tried to rationally tell one of my other girlfriends this when she was apalled at her ex's Facebook pictures with other girls. "It's his right! You broke up with him!" I told her in a text message. She did not text me back. I wonder why.

Because she had this god-awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Because even though she (we, totally we, especially me) - because we're hott and girls and selfish humans and OH SO WORTH IT - are allowed to date, flirt, and otherwise online stalk other boys...our exes are SO not.

Because even though I traveled to Philly for a sleepover date, made out sloppily with a hottie mchotterson in public on Halloween, was surprised I didn't get a kiss at the end of my date last night, and am actively flirting with like 20389471 different guys, YOU, of course, are not allowed to do any of these things.

Because even though YOU broke up with ME, you obviously must be pining away over me. On the other side of the country. Like an a-sexual being. Because any woman after me is just a mere girl. Or something.

Well this is just silly. Because I am a 21st Century woman. And I love you (in all definitions of the word). And I am above all these games (sort of). I am mature with high, but realistic expectations about our "future" and our "relationship." We're on the freakin opposite sides of the country, for cryin' out loud, and we're human.

So I won't point out that she's not that cute (well, actually, she's adorable, but I could make up stuff I don't like her if I wanted to). I won't point out that we had a fantastically away-message leaving conversation over the weekend (barf). I won't point out that you broke up with me because you didn't know how you felt about relationships.

(Oops.) Instead, I'll blame it on Facebook, and how I jump all over conclusions and get all upset for absolutely no reason.

And I'll take back my thought process I had last time I was dancing with a cute boy. Because we had mutual friends there, and those mutual friends were taking pictures. Of me. Being dipped. By said cute boy. Tons of fun! And I thought, "I hope they put this on Facebook. And I hope Dear John gets jealous."

I take back that thought process because I really don't hope that. Jealousy is rare for me, and now I know why it's a deadly sin. It feels horrible. I wouldn't wish this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach on my worst enemy (my poetry teacher would be really annoyed with how many cliches I've stuck in here). And you're not my worst enemy. Far from it.

Much love,
Heart

(I just wish I did know what you are. Not that it should matter. Just like not that I should feel jealous. Should, should, should. Blah.)

Lyrics

Dear John,

There are a lot of good breakup songs. And there are a lot of different styles to them. And I've learned recently that most of the ones written by girls - even really talented ones, like the Corrs - end up sounding super whiny. And as I and my cohort have started writing awesome lyrics ourselves, I am very conscious of sounding too whiny.

But I keep listening to a ton of music in general and I keep realizing how many of them are breakup songs. Especially those by John Mayer (my fav). Now, I am convinced that like 90% of his songs are about Lydia (who I named my GPS device after for some reason), but that's another story.

This story is about Split Screen Sadness, and how I think it's the closest a breakup song will come to our situation. Every situation is unique, of course, but every breakup does involve well...heartbreak. So it's always easy to relate. But John hit me hard just now:

One hand on the trigger of a telephone
Wondering when the call comes
Where you say it's alright
You got your heart right

Now that we chat - i mean, uh, have super-deep conversations via AIM. Really? AIM? Yes. I mean, I guess I'm blogging to you, so I can't really complain about textual conversation channels - occasionally enough, I sort of crave talking to you more. I am always tempted to call, but don't know if that's...."allowed."

One of my friends and I were commiserating literally the day after our breakup, and he said something like "Oh yeah, do not call him. I called the SHIT out of whatsherface when we broke up. It just doesn't look good." I just think that's a hilarious way to put John's beautiful telephone-trigger image. What is the best way to use that weapon? When will you use it to your advantage? Will you use it on me?

All you need is love is a lie cause
We had love but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters
And it stings when it's nobody's fault
Cause there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name
It's only the air you took and the breath you left

These lines are the worst for me, because I - and I know you too - are a huge believer in "all you need is love." My definition for that though must be shifting to sort of a general "love your neighbor" love, not romantic love. The same way I think 1Corinthians 13 is taken out of context.

It is so easy for my girlfriends to blame each others' exes. And bitch about how lame and ugly they were. And I know it is all to build up the girlfriends. But, just to let you know, I fought with them this weekend for you. I yelled at them, explaining your virtues and kindness and love. Because really, our breakup wasn't either of our "faults." It was distance. And it was timing. And it is confusion and definitions and maturity levels and life changes and exploration and youth.

"If I could I would punch timing in the face" is the little ditty-saying I had stuck in my head for a month after our breakup. It's being replaced by other tweet-ables, but it still makes sense. We share the silence.

Love,
Heart

Possible reveal

I've been watching too much HGTV, mostly because it's all my mom watches. All the designers in their little Disney Channel-esque interludes (remember those? "Disney Channel stars are just like you!" except they are famous actors. No big deal. But anyway!) between shows talk about how they love "the reveal!" Anyway...now that the possibly witty intro to this post got butchered by too many asides...

Dear John,

I gave you the link to my other blog tonight. In a differently related context. And maybe you're curious enough to wander over to this one. Maybe you're not.

If you are here - hello! I had played with the idea of giving you this link all along. And I'm not really ashamed of any of my whinings. And sort of proud of my growings, not in a small part to this blog/other journal entires/lyrics I have written.

If you do not come by, it's just as well.

And that brings us to the age-old: if a tree falls in a forest...

Love,
Heart

Shopping therapy

Dear John,

It's taken me five weeks, but I finally shopping therapy-ed post-breakup.

I went in to DSW for a pair of shoes for the wedding I'm going to this weekend, but I came out with three pairs of tights, two handbags (one was free though and for my mom), a pair of sneaker-flats (that you would think are indie-rad, probably), and a pair of wedding-appropriate shoes.

I call that a success, even though I tried on a bunch of cute winter-y hats and I couldn't make my puffy hair look good under them.

Remember when we went shopping together? I think I had more fun than with you than I have had with many of my girlfriends. It's probably because my gfs don't try to sneak into dressing rooms with me and act on thinking my outfits are sexy.

I still want these Toms boots, and I love-hate that you introduced me to the do-good Toms brand.

Love,
Heart

Vegas

Dear John,

When I invited you to come see me this weekend - still a good four hour drive from where you are, but probably the furthest West I'll be in a good, long while - I never expected you to come. I told myself I was just being playful.

Though you said you probably couldn't, you at least feigned interest and that surprised and delighted me!

But today, when you officially told me you couldn't make it, but seemed so disappointed about it, it hit much harder than I expected -

Especially when I walked through a beautiful photo gallery and all I could think of was the West and the outdoors and watching Planet Earth and wanting to share it all with you.

Especially when I ate at the Hard Rock and every band on the walls and on the video screens reminded me of the amazingness of music, which reminded me of you ("And I'd give up forever to touch you" may be the best opening lyrics of a song ever. Goo Goo Dolls? I'm not even that crazy about them. Those lyrics just stopped me in my business in the bathroom at Hard Rock though).

Especially when I walked the Strip and all I could hope was that this wasn't everything. That not everyone was satisfied with merely gaudy distraction.

It hurts the most though right now - in the form of sniffles and stupid tears on my stupid cheeks - in a cold hotel room (which I love! Truly!), attempting to substitute at least "one" more night of you holding me with a hoody and fluffy socks. It's not warm enough.

Love,
Heart

P.S:

I fear air conditioning.

Even though I feel so lonely, and I'm cradling my phone in my hand, knowing how lucky I am to have so many people who would pick up and talk to me, no matter how late it is on the home coast, I only really want to talk to you. What does that mean? Love? Lust? Fear? Intimacy? Loneliness?

Wellp

Dear John,

Now we talk all the time. On AIM, of course, which is not my favorite serious conversation communication channel, but I'll use it. To talk to you, probably mostly.

It's nice to know you didn't want to cut me out of your life. But now it's harder for me to know what to do.

I still think you're probably going to be an eternal bachelor of the rogue musician/philosopher/mystic/Brahman sort (I could imagine you as any of those, really). (And, I mean all of those as a compliment.)

Now I know you don't believe in relationships. Or, you don't understand why they are what everyone kind of strives for. I don't really know why either, but I know I do want one (I think). And I believe that if everyone is essentially looking for love - generally, it's the monogamous relationship kind - then relationships must essentially be good.

So, the point is, if you ever feel like having a best friend+lover (my personal definition of a relationship), with or without a culturally-prescribed definition, you know where to find me. I - in perfectly stupid girl fashion - would probably drop everything to get to spend time with you.

Love,
Heart

Feeling better

Dear John,

I am feeling...great today. I shaved my legs, put on a skirt, swished my hips a bit on the way to work, never once even thought about sobbing, and stopped myself short when I realized I wasn't thinking about you (but then it started me thinking about you but you know...).

I can't really figure out why! Here are some bluffs:

• Gossip Girl was on tonight, and I was looking forward to extreme (gross? on-too-early-in-primetime? HIGHschool?) sexiness all day
• Coffee for the first time in a few days
• I danced yesterday
• I signed up for a Pilates fusion class with my mom
• I saw some hott girls last night
• One particularly hott one gave me super-good ice cream therapy Saturday night
• Uhhh... I talked to you on the phone yesterday

Yeah. It was great talking to you. Except, I freaked out when you actually answered (expecting voicemail) and we talked about music for half an hour, since I couldn't remember what I wanted to tell you, and then you had to go.

And I feel kind of bad that I feel SO MUCH BETTER after talking to you. Woooosh that huge boulder of I'll-never-see-you-again-my-life-is-ruined-what-are-you-doing-with-your-life-how-are-you-feeling-without-me finally flew off of my shoulders. Probably to land on one of my other of what seems like hundreds of girlfriends that have recently been broken up with.

Even though we didn't get to finish our conversation (and I was too chicken to say everything I really wanted to), I feel almost no desire to talk to you today. I am feeling extremely confident and you know, if you want to talk to me, you can.

(So I'll be here. Sitting online. Waiting for you to IM me. You know, if you're interested. No big deal. I'm confident.)

Stream of consciousness from sitting outside as it began to rain

Dear John,

I don't think I've had conversations with anyone that were as intelligent, philosophical, and exciting as ones with you. Outside of an academic setting, at least.

I have this yearning to re-connect to nature, to contemplate God, but I still sort of want to do it with you by my side. Or at least to be able to return to you after I have contemplated. And we could share what we learned and combine forces.

I am turning into a music snob! Oh no!

You said you think change is like a death, where you have to leave some things behind completely. Please don't leave me in your last life.

I am dying to call you. (This feeling is so similar to the same longing to talk to you when we were still together but you were on the other side of the country that sometimes I think it's the same, dull pain that has allowed me to survive this week.) But I don't want to appear...however. I've been waiting for news of a possible job that would move me your way or to finish this book that I think you would like. You know, to have a reason to call you. But I am too impatient to wait for either. And I am scared that you will completely ditch memories of me before that time comes.

I think I've grown out of instant messaging, but I sign on just to get a glimpse into your life. Though your one-worded away message that hasn't changed in days doesn't really help much.

Whining. It's not flattering on me. I should try writing lyrics or something instead.

Lyrics

Dear John,

I already had started to become obsessed with Something Corporate right before we started dating. I think Pandora introduced me. And then after our first date, I was so giddy and "Punk Rock Princess" became my favorite song, you musician, you.

Later, after I started my job and then you moved, I just felt sad every single time we talked on the phone and "Down" became number one. As soon as our conversation veered towards actually breaking up a week ago, the same song automatically popped into my head.

Let's get drunk
You can drive us to the harbor
Wish upon a star
But do you know what stars are?
Balls of fire
Burning up the black space
Falling from the landscape
Exploding in the face of god.

Lets get crazy
Talk about our big plans
Places that you're going
Places that I haven't been.

This line always spoke to me. You've been everywhere, and I felt like a sheltered little brat. But I was so excited to go on a moving adventure with you. Which, of course, now may have come to a halt.

Build my walls up
Concrete Castle
keep this kingdom
free of hassle yeah.

I hear sound echo in the emptiness
All around but you can't change their loneliness
Look what you've found
I've fallen down.

Ahhh this chorus. So beautiful. I always try to sing it - usually when I get off the train on my way home and I'm walking to my car parked alone on the third floor - but for some dang reason I can't get the rhythm right and it always sounds funny in my voice!

Taste the saline
Rolling down your cheekbone
Tell me that you're alone
Tell me on the telephone
Feel your heart
It breaks within your chest now.
Try to get some rest now
Sleeps not coming easy for a while
Child

I never could figure out why I ended every one of our phone conversations, even when you were only an hour and a half away, in sobs. It was either:

• I am a huge slut and can't deal with not touching you
  
• You were really bad at phone conversations? (not really)
  
• They always turned super-philosophical and I felt like an idiot
  
• I just super-miss(ed) you

I think these lyrics kind of tease it out: I'm telling you that I'm alone...on the telephone. It's still being ... alone. Bah.

I hear sound echo in the emptiness
All around but you can't change this loneliness
Look at what you've found
I've fallen down.

Hehe

Dear John,

Can you believe it? They actually write funny, tongue-in-cheek break-up songs. Ohhh G. Love.

Remember that time you sent me a picture message after not talking to me for days of your car parked at the curb outside your work and the caption "city living na nah na nah nah." I thought at first you were taunting me in a mean way - a "you aren't here yet and I'm way cooler than you for living in the city ha-ha" kind of way. But wasn't I smart? And I didn't jump to mean conclusions. I suspected they were lyrics, and I was right. And I discovered G. Love. So thank you for that.

People say
You're gonna fall in and out of love all the time

People say
That it don't come easy
But you sure came easy on me oh my

Look at me
Still hangin' 'round
Still hangin' 'round
Ooo baby I'm still around

Scandalous, G. Love, scandalous. And I like it.

(Except that you/I can't hang around, cuz we're on opposite sides of the country. Boo. I guess I shouldn't try to live vicariously through songs anyway.)

RANDOM crap

Dear John,

I am annoyed with the random things that are making me think of you today!

What catalyzed this post/letter was closing out the folder I labeled "complicated" on my desktop. It's complicated because it has something to do with work and videos and converting them. But as I closed it, I thought about the "It's complicated" label on facebook, and how silly it was and how much of stir it caused when they introduced it as a possible relationship status.

Then I thought, well, doesn't that accurately describe my situation?

I've also always jumped straight back to "single" the very few times I've actually had to break up a facebook relationship (because everyone knows facebook tells all), and this was the first time I didn't click the "end relationship" button because, well, I was out of town without a computer when it happened between us.

But right now I just have the relationship status part of my profile mysteriously "hidden," like so many of girlfriends have it all the time - which used to frustrate me. Now I think blankness is the closest I can accurately describe my "relationship" situation.

ANYWAY. It made me remember the last time you broke up with a girlfriend (you serial-monogomist-turned-non-believer-in-relationships, you) and how my roommate and one of my friends went out of their way to give me the heads up.

"Heart!!! Have you checked facebook yet this morning?" asked my roommate at like 8am.

"Uhh no, why?"

"John. He's single! Weeeee!"

"Omg, Heart," read my friend's text, "I just checked my facebook and you'll never guess who showed up on my mini-feed as single! John! Go for it girl!"

I wasn't even 100% sure of my crush on you and everyone else already saw it.

So today, what other girls are gleeful at your newest update?

Love,
Heart

PS: Stirring sugar into my coffee this morning also reminded me of you, because you taught me to not tear the packets all the way open, since single-pieces of trash are better for the landfills or something. What the CRAP, heart?!

Pet hair makes me cry

Dear John,

I was doing really well today.

Unpacking was way easier than I thought. But then I came across my suit skirt.

I went to hang it up, and then I noticed the pet hair on it from lying on your make-shift bed. Fido, Rex and Princess** are so smart. They nudged between us when we weren't touching. They buried their heads into our legs and licked at the salt on our skin when we finally were.

Even though I only met them twice, I miss them so much too. One of the weird things about breaking up is that "missing" anything and everything always seems irrational, but is there nevertheless.

Love,
Heart

**No, these are not their names. Not even their genders, actually, though I'm not sure why I'm protecting the identity of animals.

I want my own puppy I think.

Forever

Dear John,

I just yelled at a diamond commercial.

It was one of those nice ones too - not the overly cheesy ones that pop up around Christmas, Valentine's Day and Mother's Day - where the young couple walks around the old couple who are holding hands, only to rejoin their hands on the other side. The hands have diamonds, like duh, but that's not the point.

The point is that I no longer believe in their tagline:
"There are only two things that last longer than a [lifetime? I actually can't remember this word]. Diamonds are one of them."

Ahhh I've been a hopeless romantic my entire life, even while watching my parents argue and after struggling with a really rough break up with my last "love." But I chalked it up to bad communication for the former and immaturity for the latter, and reestablished my faith in love.

Then I found you and jumped into love so fast. We Indian soul-gazed, you wrote songs about me, we spoke the words, we discussed moving cross-country and into our own place together. I guess I assumed that the only guy who would ever suggest all that would be someone as crazy and faithful in love as I was.

Changes, changes, timing, timing (if I could I would punch timing in the face for me and all the pain it has caused me and all my girlfriends) and poof, now we're apart. Does that mean we're no longer in love? We said the words at the last possible seconds before our separation. And we'd been talking for weeks about how we didn't get to fully explore our love.

So why give up on it so soon? Why not give it a chance? Maybe, as you believe, we would have broken up eventually - whether it was a year down the year or thirty. Maybe love isn't forever. Or maybe true (Godly?) love is, but flawed human love is.

Regardless, I yelled at a commercial. If there were a ballet or a Hollywood movie in front of me, I would also yell at it. Because love still messes crap up. And I hate that, possibly because of marketing, my standards, hopes and dreams were so high.

Dear John**

Ah, the perfect way to resurrect Care and Feeding from it's untimely death from the lashing, mouthy wit and too-hott-to-handle hands of Like, Oh My Blog:

A break up.

Boo, hiss.

I was thinking of creating a whole new blog, but why bother? Care and Feeding - weak and breathless as it may be right now - is probably the perfect outlet for Dear John.

I also was thinking of making Dear John letters REALLY GOOD, so good that I could become another blogger with a book deal. I could be all Carrie Bradshaw and even better because I could find a creative outlet and a career in a time of pain and confusion.

But I don't know if I can really - if I'm being true to my feelings and what I would actually say to John** - pull that off. These letters will all probably be pretty whiny, and a lot will be analysis of lyrics, because that's what I do. I get too wrapped up in other's words.

Also, I was thinking back to my last break-up, and I could hardly remember it. What hurt the most at that moment of realization was that in a few years time, I can be in the exact same place I am now:

Totally upset about Boy XYZ, and having forgotten all about John. Now, is that fair to John? Does it allow me to grow? Or will I keep making the same mistakes?

**No, duh, his name is not John. Very far from it. Also, try this irony on for size: John broke up with me. And he did it in a very, very nice and considerate and somehow sexy way. So I am not breaking up with him with these letters, just loving and thinking and trying to grow. Maybe one day I'll even share with him the link.