It happened, it finally happened. I snapped.
Okay, so snapped might not be the right word.
But it's a dramatic word, and this is a dramatic post.
A few hours ago I was fine-- enjoying beautiful California beaches, diving through its waves, wiggling my toes in its sand, when suddenly my screen-worthy vacation transformed from Blue Crush into Little Miss Sunshine.
And not at the climactic, feel-good scene right before the closing credits.
It was more like the this-is-so-terrible-it-is-hilarious-and-could-only-happen-in-a-hipster-indie-movie-thank-goodness-this-isn't-real-life-fbomb-fbomb-fbomb-cue-harsh-realizations kind of a scene.
At least, that is what it seemed like in the moment.
Despite having most likely been building up for quite a while, the deterioration of my sanity [I told you. DRAMA] began at the moment in which my mother reminded me of an ex's marriage today after she saw it on Facebook.
"Huh?" I forced out as I choked on a piece of home-made sloppy joe.
"Well, at least I have Arabic!" I darkly joked, "I need to take a shower."
How taking a shower would solve any emotional issues is beyond me... but it seemed like a good solution at the time.
It was a long shower.
So long, in fact, that I ran out of hot water. "This is like a microcosm of my life," I dramatically thought.
Once again, how cold water reflects my life is beyond me... my life is actually quite wonderful.
AND hilarious.
However, at the time, I felt like my life was indeed like a cold shower-- cold, wet, lonely, and leaving me wishing for warmer times and someone with which to share them.
SIDE NOTE: Later, after reflecting on these comical thoughts, I decided to become an actress.
Before these thoughts became retrospectively hilarious, however, they went something like this:
"Well, it's not like I care or anything. I ended it, I'm glad it happened, I'm glad it didn't work out, I learned a lot [all very true]."
"I'm OVER IT [also true]!"
"I'm OVER IT [also true]!"
Nevertheless, it still bothered me.
It bothered me that after a year and a half of parting ways, I had Arabic, a job, graduation swiftly approaching, people I love moving on and away, and an unsure future, while he has a diploma, a set career path, and, well, a wife, who happens to also be a model/dancer.
Not that I'm hurting a husband, or a wife for that matter.
But who wants anything if they are alone?
[DRAMA DISCLAIMER REMINDER]
"That's like having nothing!" I concluded as I dried my sun-kissed hair and browned skin.
Too much sun? Maybe.
Regardless, it didn't end there.
Somewhere in between showering, calculating an impossibly frustrating curve for my students' grades, and drinking a diet coke in approximately 1.5 minutes, all to the soundtrack of bickering relatives, I cracked.
The dramatic, semi-angry shell around my heart cracked, and out poured a sensitive sea inside.
I cried.
I cried on the blow-up mattress I currently sleep on in my aunt's office; I cried as I walked to the kitchen to pour myself half-a-wine glass [it was the first thing I saw, and seriously, when else am I going to use one?] full of semi-sweet chocolate chips; I cried as I thought, "great! yet another microcosm of my life;" And I cried as I returned to my computer, only to find those unfinished numbers still there.
Then, after catching my reflection in the screen while simultaneously popping chocolate chips like pills, I realized just how much sun I got today.
I stopped crying.
"Well," I thought, "at least I have a wicked tan."
Life is good, Little Miss Sunshine.
Life is good.
