All Hope Is Lost

sayid

Now that Lost is over forever it’s being talked about by everyone. Everyone seems to have an opinion, whether it’s that the show was great but confusing and the last episode was beautiful but unrevealing (me); or that Lost made no sense and was worthy of being discarded during season one (almost everyone else I talk to).

Chatting on Facebook the other night I realised that how and when you stopped watching Lost can be compared to how your relationships with real people play out. Me? I stick around till the bitter end and still get disappointed when things I hoped for still don’t happen after 6 years.

Here’s what some others had to say:

  • I got confused, gave up and moved countries. lol.
  • Hah… I got annoyed and confused in the first episode and I’m still wondering why there was a polar bear on the island… (@sarah_puppy)
  • I gave up after season 3 and got back togeher with it for the last season. (@casper_99)
  • I quit after s01 when I realised I liked the teasers more than the show itself. I will break things off if not working quickly? Although when bored I did occasionally watch an episode. Oh man. This does sound like me. (@ehjc)
  • I watched for a while, stopped, and then went back. Again and again. Huh.
  • I gave up during season 2, but ask my friends for updates and what’s happening, then get upset as I’m missing out. I also think wistfully about watching the rest of it in the future, but remember that it probably won’t work out.
  • I only started watching at the start of season 2, got bored (not confused) even tho I liked some characters and quit watching. I’m willing to get sucked in totally if things are interesting, but if I get bored, I detach.
  • Watched Lost til the very end, getting angrier & more & more frustrated as it developed.
  • I watched till the Polar Bear. C watched for long long after. Despite being a pro lost & an anti lost we are still very together!
  • Stopped after maybe series 2 or 3, when I realised it was going to take ages to find out wtf was going on.
  • I followed it on the internet obsessively even after it made it clear it didn’t want my attention. OH SHIIIIIT!
  • I stopped watching when I moved away and lost my TV
  • Has anyone said abortion?

No wonder we’re all so fucking dysfunctional.

Moving On

The apathy will subside. My usual happy disposition will return.

I am moving on, finding a flat, finding a job, and doing what I like, when I like.
My motto for 2010 is “trust your instincts”. I have been ignoring myself for too long.

It feels strange to be moving on so quickly. Right now it has been less than three weeks since the separation, but it is starting to feel like it was a long time ago. All the feelings of disappointment, frustration, and annoyance I buried for the sake of compromise and living in a relationship, have replaced the reasons I wanted to make it work. At this moment I am more upset at having my happy bubble burst than losing the person I thought I would grow old with. But then my feelings change every day depending on what I’ve heard, what I’ve read, what I’ve remembered.

Ladies and Gents, if you like you should put a ring on it (not necessarily a literal ring, but make your feelings known to all concerned parties). Otherwise move on, and stop wasting time.

Thank you all for your help, concern, and best wishes. I can’t do it without you. xxoo

Not Ready

I’ve been trying so hard to be tough and nonchalant this week that I almost convinced myself I am those things. For a while I managed to think about having an amazing life as a single person and decorating a bedroom all of my own. Thinking about all the friends I can party with, about all the travelling I’ll do, about all the fun I could have meeting new guys.

And then tonight, my last night in Hamilton, I went out dancing. It was great fun. But saying goodbye to my friend it really started to hit me. Tomorrow I’m going back to Wellington. Tomorrow I really have to start sorting out my life, whatever it is going to be. Getting into my room at Mums I see she has left me a little box of chocolates and I burst into tears. I don’t want to go home. I’m not ready to be on my own.

1 + 1

heart

Let me tell you about how I met The Boy. It’s a true soap opera like story; a bunch of coincidences, naive optimism, and teenage lust lead us to where we are now, almost 8 years later.

It started like many stories of this nature do. Girl meets boy, they fall in love, he consistently acts like a douche and then goes overseas on holiday with his family. She retaliates by hooking up with someone else.

I was 16, and decided to head to Bowentown on New Years eve with a few people from the supermarket I worked at. One of the guys uncles was travelling with the gypsy fair and we planned to camp at their site.

As it happened The Boy was also travelling with the gypsy fair for the summer. His unusual name was a talking point, as always, and a few of the young ‘gypsies’ started to pal around with our group.

I don’t really remember the full events of the night, but I remember very vividly going to the portaloo and just as I finished the countdown to midnight started. I very graciously leapt out of the toilet and kissed him as the new year started.

That started a year of texting, and when his phone was lost, writing, and then eventually emails. We have a bag each of the letters we wrote each other. I lived in Ngaruawahia, he lived in Hastings about 6 hours away, and as school students who weren’t in a relationship – due to distance, and the fact we didn’t really know each other – we didn’t talk on the phone or visit. The only other time we saw each other was in April when he came for short visit.

During the year I was in and out of relationships with both douche and another boy from school.
I left school half way through the year and went to tech and near the end of the year douche decided to call it off via phone and I never saw him again. Instead of getting too upset I jumped online to talk to The Boy. He was moving to Wellington for uni in the new year and on a whim we decided to go together.
We had seen each other in person on a total of 4 separate days so I booked a bus ticket to Hastings to spend a week with The Boy to make sure we actually liked each other in real life. I met both of his parents and had a great time. A couple of days into the trip we had “the talk” and made it official. That was on December the 2nd 2002 – 7 years ago today.

I went home and prepared to move out. After xmas The Boy came to spend New Years with me and get my stuff. We filled up his car and moved everything to Hastings. And here’s where the story continues to be a soap opera…I got sick.

Well I’d actually been sick for a while. But I didn’t really realise it. In Hastings the symptoms go too bad to ignore and I was admitted to hospital, thankfully The Boy’s mum was willing to look after me.

We needed to find a flat in Wellington so The Boy caught a ride down with his dad and stayed with his sister spending a few days trudging the streets looking for a place while I was laid up in bed recovering. Once I was released I bused to Wellington with nothing but a bag of clothes and a blow up mattress until the rest of our sparse possessions arrived and we could buy some furniture.

And here we are 7 years later. Love you hun.