February is over. The shortest month of the year that feels the longest. And all because of the damned cold and snow. We had a few nice days, foretastes, and I'm hearing this weekend will be good. Lots of rain, which is better than snow; and thunderstorms, which I adore; and mild temperatures. Even up into the sixties. Yes, please. February was a pretty good month, not least because of countless trips to Cincinnati, seeing great friends and family, and spending time with Elle. Which leads to my next point.
Elle and I broke up. A mutual decision based in the realm of logic rather than emotion. I would prefer it to be one of emotion, because then my emotions would be on-board with the logical decision. We both like each other. A lot. And I sorely miss her. I hate the idea of never holding her like I did, of never kissing her lips. Absolutely hate it. But we're at different stations in life. She wants one thing out of life, I want another. No matter our affections for one another, the end result would come as one doomed. And so we made the decision to end things now. We're still friends, and I mean that genuinely. We still talk a lot, and there's no hostility or bitterness. Nostalgia, definitely--but no resentment or discord. And that's good. I selfishly wonder why she couldn't be on the same page as me when it came to life and its trimmings; an entirely selfish thought, which I shoo away. Liking someone doesn't make a relationship work, that's all we had, it's all we've got. It was a wise decision, a legitimate mutual decision--I'm reminded of Michael Scott's famous quote: "They say these things are mutual, but they never are. But this one is." Unlike the scenario in The Office, this one was mutual, attested to by the fact that our friendship has not weakened. Now we must reap the loss of one another. I miss her greatly, and she misses me. But we'll be okay.
I spent yesterday after work with some of my co-workers. We went to the hole-in-the-wall Flavor's Eatery in Centerville, browsed the Borders store going out of business by the Mall, and then went back to one of their apartments for a coffee press, much laughter, and intriguing conversation. A year ago I didn't know these people existed; now we're great friends. I feared moving back home would result in no friendships. But I've made friends, and I'm enjoying the friendships, the accountability and trust and transparency. Good friends are hard to find, and I'm either lucky or blessed or both.
Tomorrow is my last shift of the week, and I have Saturday and Sunday off. I plan on hitting up church somewhere in there, maybe grab some Chinese with another friend (or two) from work. I've had weekends off for the last several weeks, and I'm loving it. It won't last long, though: I'm back working Saturdays next week. My birthday's Tuesday, and Monday evening I'm going down to Cincinnati and Rob and Mandy are fixing me dinner, and I'm spending the night at Amanda's apartment, and Tuesday I'll be back in town. I forgot my birthday was coming up till last week, when in a store meeting, I learned that the Starbucks 40th Anniversary is March 8th, and the date sounded familiar, and it clicked. I'm an idiot. Birthdays don't mean a lot to me, and I don't know whether or not I'm getting gifts from my parents, but I really don't care. It's just another age. One step closer to death and that which lies beyond.
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