My friends,
It’s going to be a short one. It’s going to be a little note from me to you. It’s 5 PM on a Friday. It’s been raining all week long. I’m in a cozy white cardigan, messy bun, leggings, and glasses. There’s a mug of coffee beside us, because we caved and bought Instant this week (I’ve never been happier). Sometimes, you just need the comfort of knowing that your coffee will last you longer than 2 sips.
This is going to be…a little ramble. A little catch up.
I genuinely feel like I went through a break up this week, without being in a relationship. Granted, I wasn’t even in a situationship. I wasn’t even hooking up with the guy.
Do you want to know what happened? I put my Gemini mind to rest. And I stopped rationalizing my emotions. Logic is so helpful. Logic can help us to make peace with reality and any given situation: “Well, logically, it wouldn’t work out in the long run because xyz. Logically, it wouldn’t have worked out in the short term because xyz.”
Logic helps us to make rational decisions. And using logic can even help to protect us. But, does using logic ever really mitigate the feelings of heartache? And do we do a disservice to our hearts, when we try to talk ourselves out of our feelings?
I had to stop with the “but it doesn’t make sense / it doesn’t make sense / it doesn’t make sense” narrative that I was repeating to myself, over and over and over again. The “but it was only twice last spring” line that I kept repeating to my best friend, my other friends, my therapist, my Uber driver last week, and anyone else who would listen.
So, the monsoon-like weather made me pause. It made me sad, it made me sleepy, and it made me come to terms with a lot of things.
Am I sad over Past Newsletters? Absolutely. Am I hurt? Absofuckinglutely. Do I wish things ended differently? Also, absofuckinglutely.
“Swimming in sadness” is something that popped into my head while I was doing my fifth face mask of the week. I haven’t been through a break up in a while, but, I do know how it feels to go through a period of heartache. And hurt feelings.
My immediate response to sadness is always - wait, what can I do to fix it? Do I need a cappuccino, do I need a glass of white wine, do I need to go to Zara? But because I was too sleepy and cold to venture outside this week, I let myself swim in it instead. The Olivia Rodrigo on repeat. The rotating pairs of sweats and leggings and fuzzy socks, and the obsession with skincare - if I’m going to have to look at my sad reflection for the next little while, I at least want to look at glowing and hydrated skin.
I also realized something else. Sadness + pain are just another facet of love. Remember what my therapist said? Grief is love with nowhere to go. So the sadness, is really, just another extension of it all. But most of all, it’s proof. It’s proof that real feelings were there, and real feelings existed.
On Wednesday night, I had a therapy session, meaning that I had to catch her up on the past 2 months worth of newsletters. Imagine this conversation: “SO I SHOWED UP IN MY LITTLE ORANGE DRESS AND WHITE HEELS. AND I REFUSED TO TAKE A SHOT WITH HIM. AND I TOLD HIM THAT HE IS A JOKE. AND THAT HE IS PATHETIC.”
She couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could I. It’s so dramatic. And then of course, I had to tell her that, now, he makes it very clear that he does not want me at his bar anymore.
I mean, I forgave him when he had his tantrum in front of everyone, I tell her. He begged for forgiveness, and me being emotionally mature, forgave him and even laughed when he came up to me a few weeks later, tail between his legs, sheepishly holding up a peace sign.
But I also knew where it was all coming from. And I assumed that he knew where my mini tantrum (I say mini because I calmly stated my peace) was coming from, too.
Anyways, after both of us laughing about the ridiculousness of it all, she asked me - “okay, but Emily, - how do you really feel about him?”
So I told her the truth. When I first met him, I thought he was perfect. He was, not only, physically, one of the most beautiful looking men I had ever seen. But emotionally, he understood me on every single level possible. And I didn’t ever think that it would be possible to find someone like that.
“And above it all, I just wanted us to stay friends. To retain some sort of connection, because finding someone who understands the way you see the world, sees it just like you, accepts the way you feel, and the way you communicate…it’s rare.”
He was a writer’s dream. I’d just sit at the bar, and every single word, every single sentence that came out of his mouth was like poetry. It was profound, it was a story that I couldn’t wait to type out and share it in a letter for other people to read.
Those four newsletters in a row are by far, my favourite accomplishments of this year. My favourite parts of this year. Hard Feelings, The Story of Past Newsletters, To Writing by the Sea, and To The Place I Belong.
But the best part of it all, was that other people loved them too. That I got to share these moments and memories that I had with him, with everyone else. And other people had the chance to feel how special his words were. How special our connection was. And for that period in time, I felt understood.
“Without him…I wouldn’t have this summer’s newsletters. I wouldn’t have the content. The characters - Peter Pan, The Man At the Front, the bar itself…the reflections on home. On understanding. On freedom. All of it. And now, I think he hates me.”
“Emily. He does not hate you. You both felt very deeply for one another, no one is arguing with that. But it’s a lot easier for him to be distant. To be rude and to be cold and to push you away. The alternative is this: falling deeper, which would make him realize a lot of things about his life. A lot of unhappiness. A lot of things that, I don’t think he’s choosing to change. And pushing those feelings away, means pushing you away.”
She tells me that everything happens for a reason.
“And Emily, I know you believe in this too.”
I think one of the worst parts of it all might be the fact that our tantrums and outbursts never came from a hatred or a dislike. It comes from the complete opposite.
So, this is why this week has been this week. A perpetual foggy brain. An addiction to eye and face masks and hot showers. Olivia on repeat. A tiny loss of appetite (I really hope this returns). I bought pencil crayons and a sketchbook, because colouring has always soothed me. Getting through at least one thing on my to-do list makes me feel victorious.
But right as I finish typing this to you, do you want to know what happened? I kid you not, the rain has finally stopped. The clouds are clearing up.
And you know what else? I think might see the tiniest hint of sunset.
Well my friends, it’s time for a little Friday night Pilates. A face mask (or 2, why not). And a little Olivia in the background.
I love you.
Ps. My writer’s workshop that starts in November is FULL! It filled up within a day, and I could not be more grateful! But I want to run another one…so let me know if you’re interested in joining and I’ll share more info with you. :)
Pps. I’m also open for booking for social media management and copywriting clients for this winter!
You can visit my website and portfolio here (designed by the beautiful Lindsay Mariko.)
Okay, I think that’s all for now.
Ciao my angels,
Emily