Love hurts, yeah yeah.

I guess the difference between you and me is that when I said, "I love you," I actually meant it.

Cold Freezing Feet.

It has been almost three weeks since I've cried.

And here I am, with one full day remaining in front of me and my life in the United States, and I cried. No, wailed. The kind where you have to sit down in the shower and hold the walls because you can't keep it in. And you don't want to keep it in anymore, the burden is no longer enough to hide.

Not over one thing, but many.

But namely, am I making the right choice? Is this a bad decision? Will I regret it?

In 33 hours I will be on a plane, leaving my home and everything I've known. I have no where to live. I don't have any friends. My funds are excruciatingly limited. Expressing myself in this language is the hardest thing I've ever done -- I can read, write, understand French perfectly. Yet somehow, when I speak, I think in my head that I must sound like a simple child. Instead of explaining the word "outlet," I describe the "round, circle thing with holes in the wall to charge my cell phone."

"Ah, tu veux dire la prise." Sure, la prise. Whatever you people call it, all I want to do is charge my cell phone.

The biggest reason why tears stained my face today [cue pathetic drumroll]...

I'm still in love with someone who is probably over me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I feel like I'm running away from the one thing that used to make me happy. Why is the hurting period so long? And is it wrong that at the onset of two of my failed relationships the only thing running through my mind was, "When is he going to hurt me and then leave me?" because God knows I get way too attached to ever break up with and hurt someone on my own.

Am I making the right choice? Will I still be able to re-discover what I thought was happiness when I return in one year?

Or am I nothing but a pathetic excuse for a normal, rational, human being?

Espèce de carrefour?

The more I think about it, the more I believe that moving to France is only a ruse for covering up the loose ends in my life. When everything seems to fail me, I hide behind an international journey. However, I guess there could be worse options to choose from!

This will be the second time I flee the country to escape any emotional baggage I can no longer carry. A clean slate if you will. An image of something totally different -- something completely un-Monique for a change. However, the irony lies in the fact that my name is rather symbolic of the quintessential French style de vie. Without trying to at all, I am all things French solely because of my name. Maybe that’s why I’m about to embark upon this life journey.

Yet all anyone can tell me is how excited they are for me. How scary it must be, or how gutsy I am to just up and move out of the country like this.

But I want to let you in on a little secret. I’m sure anyone, if placed in the same situation -- no long-term job prospects, two utter failures in the romance department, no central localization of any friends and no debt -- would have no trouble following the steps I’m crafting.

Granted, it will be all of those things, but the idea doesn’t seem so life-shattering to me as it does to everyone else. I’m just another confused college grad looking to find herself in the world. Yawn… All my life plans, or what I thought were going to be my life plans, have crumbled and the trail of crumbs leads me down this part of the forest… forêt rather. I’ve been down this road before so perhaps the second time through will be slightly more navigable.

I’m not really sure what I’m doing quite yet. But does anyone really? All I know is that I want to be there, I want to speak French on a daily basis and I want to escape for a little while. Ten months seems fair, non?

Only when I’m ready, will I re-accept who I am here in the United States. And as they are right now, my feet then will also be at the intersection of possibilities, opportunities, broken dreams and rejections. When I return in one year, nothing will be tying me down. Just as nothing is tying me down in the present tense. And for once, I feel extremely at ease with that idea.

...16 jours!!!!

New perspective?

Maybe I'm a bad person.

I should probably start accepting blame a little more in my life.

I'd like to exchange this pair.

And everyone wonders why I have such low self-esteem.

For some reason I keep stumbling across guys who are -- in the end -- totally wrong for me. I’ve never been able to keep one interested for a long period of time. Nor have I ever dated a guy who told me I was beautiful. Not like I would have believed him, but things like that start helping to build up confidence where none existed before.

I want to be in love so badly, that I try to fit them through these little molds in which they don’t fit. And for that reason, I am to blame. For trying too hard to see the good in people and waiting to give them the credit I think they deserve, because I really am that naïve. I see people for what they should be and not what they are. And it always lets me down, leaving me hurt and completely exposed.

What makes matters worse, is that they leave me different than I started. Despite all my accomplishments and the success I should feel for myself, I instead feel worthless, unattractive and unimportant. But most of all, I feel like I am replaceable, because I probably am.

The closest analogy I can think of is like trying on a pair of pants. Sometimes you have to struggle through really crappy, overpriced pairs of jeans that show off all your imperfections and flatter you in all the wrong areas. But eventually (because I am forever an optimist), you happen across the right pair, the ones that make you feel and look like a million bucks. And then you never want to take those jeans off.

Well, it might not be like that for everyone else, but that’s how things are with me (literally, the pants-shopping process as well as the male department).

Back to the sale racks I guess. Preferably the ones near the slimming mirrors.

Let there be light!

[Preface to this post:] It wasn't until flying on Wednesday night that I realize I feel utterly isolated.

Yes, I have close friends via electronic communication; however, I'm up in the Bay Area alone and I've just gone through a really hard situation also leaving me emotionally abandoned. In times like these during college, I'd go out with friends or have a physical shoulder to cry on, watch a movie with the girls... the list goes on.

And when I thought about all that on the plane, I couldn't keep it in. I've never before acted like this in public and I could not hold back the tears stinging my eyes.

Luckily it was a red eye flight, so it was dark and hardly anyone was awake when I rank back to the lavatory to grab some kleenex.

It all just hit so hard and I've had three days to digest it all. Even though I'm totally overwhelmed, I'm starting to put things into perspective and convince myself of how to think, feel and act.

Working constantly for two weeks is helping take my mind off everything. Especially with a lightning storm here in Boston to break up the monotony of 12 hours of volleyball matches. And since this IS the AVP, it was only fitting that they evacuated us from our metal "cage" to a neighboring bar and dance cabana. Hey, at least they had an overhang!

There really is never a dull moment here on tour. Especially when you mix staff, players and local drunks :)

...But when it all comes to a screeching halt at the end of the season, I'm getting the feeling that I'm going to have a lot more time to think about my present situation some more.

A new morning

Today I woke up and had a question burning within me.

I thought to myself, as hard as it is, I'm going to ask this question. One of two things could happen:

a.) I get the answer I want and just wait for it to happen.
b.) I don't and face the long road ahead of moving on.

And 10 minutes ago, I asked the question. I didn't get the response I was looking for. So now I think I'm ready to make that arduous journey. It's going to take a lot of strength and tears, but now I know it's the only way.

I'm going to stop hurting myself and try to grow up. Try to. Let's hope I have the strength to do that, because I deserve so much better than what I've been going through lately.

There, I said it. I just wish what I deserve finally comes to me one of these days, instead of letting myself get hurt in situations like these over and over again.

Misconception

There is a huge flaw in the belief that a sizeable purchase will help to get your mind off someone, if only momentarily. Namely, once you put on said articles, your thoughts naturally progress towards, "Wow, I look good. I wish [insert name of aforementioned person] could see me. S/he would love it."

Furthermore, it's very wrong to purchase underwear. Especially good-looking ones. Because surely, you must have wanted someone to see that when you made the initial purchase.

So, by default in your character, the shopping plan has backfired and now you've tried six ways to get your mind off someone, and only one has marginally worked. But in reality, you don't want to get over him/her, beause it means that you have to emotionally separate yourself from all the wonderful emotions and moments you once shared in the past. That's the kicker, isn't it? Past, not present. Not any longer. What to do next...?