Shake It Off

Whenever I get scared that I have nothing left to say that nothing new is going on in my life that I will have nothing to write about, I remember that I can always go back to the past. There are a wealth of juicy nuggets I have only skimmed over and not devoted a blog to. An example is Illinois' marriage a mere 8 months after we broke up. There is my reaction to it and then there is my impression of Mrs. Illinois. Because I met her. After meeting her I felt free for the first time in months; he had moved on and it was time for me to move on. That was liberation numero uno. As an old friend of mine used to say, it's the game of inches. And that was an inch that I always forget to give myself credit for.

It happened like this. It was April 1, 2006. I remember the date for two reasons. It was the last game of the final four. I was supposed to meet L.A. at a bar in Park Slope and watch it with him. April 2 was my half-birthday and the start of the first of my anticipated six 30-day challenges, bikram yoga for 30 days. AC and I were tired or sick or hungover; I can't remember which and we didn't feel like traveling to Park Slope. RC came over and we decided to hit up the new Mexican joint in Red Hook for some dinner. The food took awhile and we ran out for a six-pack. We got another six pack when the food came. After eating, fortified by the food and motivated by the alcohol, we started feeling itchy and tried to figure out what our next stop was. We decided it couldn't be home. I told AC that my sister ran into someone from my former life who told her that Mrs. Illinois bartended at a bar in our neighborhood on Saturday nights. AC looked at me squarely and said, "wanna go?" I had showered and was wearing a new shirt and figured why the hell not, now was a perfect time especially since it was the last game of the final four and I knew Illinois wouldn't be watching it at that bar.

I admonished AC and RC not to call me by my name and instructed RC that in the off chance Illinois did show up he would be making out with me stat. We all smoked a cigarette, filed in and sat down at the bar. AC and I drank Shiraz. All the while Mrs. Illinois was talking to other patrons and I heard snippets of her conversations, "Illinois loves Jamba Juice," "we have a rent stablized apartment," and, "we got a cat yesterday." Did she know who I was or does she just talk about him non-stop? Either way, she kept refilling our glasses; every time I turned around I had more wine. She was nice and normal and southern and sweet, in fact she called all of us 'sweetie' Was she killing us with kindness or did she have no clue who we were. I couldn't read her.

I had an epiphany after meeting her. She makes sense with him. I got why he and I didn't work. She is small like him. She seems practical about life in the way that he is. The way that I will never be. The way that I always wished he wasn't. The way he and I could never agree to disagree but would always be a bone of contention when I continuously wasn't satisfied with my life and wanted more. And he didn't. He just wanted a 'simple life' And he accused me of not wanting the same thing. And I would get offended and be my contrary self but he was right. I didn't understand what he meant as much as I did after meeting his wife. She is a lot like him. He is definitely more fun and crazy than she is but they are both practical and not big dreamers or doers. They live. They don't need to try every restaurant or always want to go somewhere new or travel all the time. They enjoy their routine and their neighborhood and each other. I wasn't ever going to be that for him. It's why sometimes I felt alone even when I was with him. I was never with someone who got me. I had glimpses but that wasn't enough. It was never enough. And I couldn't ever give him enough either. He wanted it and he loved me and I wanted it and loved him but it was never enough. And it never would have been. We always would have missed each other when we were in the same room. We were always missing what we wished the other was. I am happy for Illinois for finding Mrs. Illinois. As much as he fucked me over I cannot hate him. Nor could I hate her. She's just a nice, normal girl. The kind of girl I wish I could be but never will be. When she's at home watching her favorite show on television I will be looking over my shoulder dreaming about the next risk or 30-day challenge I am going to take.

Simultaneously all I could think about was how weird it was. As if the course my life had taken already couldn't be more like a movie or like a book or made-up. He is married. We lived together. I wore his ring. And I still lived in the neighborhood that was our playground. And it is their playground now. When I saw Mrs. Illinois, I noticed how much I was living my life in response and in reaction and in relation to my relationship with Illinois. Meanwhile, I was no longer in love with Illinois. I couldn't relate to the Briana that was with Illinois. So why was I still clinging to the past; walking around with it like it's my burden for the rest of my life, like I made my bed and it's my bed forever and who I am instead of relishing being free, starting over and feeling lucky not to still be stuck there.

Before meeting her, I had wanted to lose weight but it was the heaviness in my heart that I wanted to lose more than anything. I should have been feeling proud of myself for surviving and succeeding and learning how to breathe and learning how to live and be happy again. The girl who was with Illinois was never me. I had been in a funk since 2001 since law school ended and I was thrust into the real world into a job that I hoped to love forever but hated and even worse was terrible at. Then 9/11 and the Brooklyn and Staten Island debacle and money and moving out and nothng feeling right. Searching for that something. Searching for the adult version of the self I had finally grown into and lost again once life changed. Enter Illinois. He told me who I was and told me he loved me and gave me answers to everything I needed answers for. He told me everything would be alright. He told me we were meant to be. He quieted my crazy mind and made me feel like if nothing else I could always count on him. I needed for something to go right in my life. I needed for that something to be something I had done right and Illinois was that for me; I may not have a job I love but I am in a good relationship. Pros and cons of life. I didn't realize he was undoing years of me and I would never be the same again. I didn't expect to lose my soft touch and gain an edge. I didn't bargain on trusting people even less than I already did. I didn't expect to ever think of myself as a victim or expect the worst and be unable to appreciate the best when I got it.

After meeting her I realized I could let go of that victim persona and move on with my life. There is no reason I have to always be the girl whose fiancee broke up with her after losing their two babies yada yada yada. I have options. I have choices. I have a new life to lead. If he can find happiness so can I.