I am always confused by how I'm supposed to feel about the past... nostalgia? To quote Diana Vreeland:
"I loathe nostalgia."
Who wants to look back on the past fondly? Not I. I got a text message the other day from The X: "Just drove by the dance studio and thought of you. I'll be in NY in a few weeks. Will you be around?" The sight of his phone number on my cell phone makes my stomach turn a little and a statement like that makes the bile rise in my throat. Of course I'll be around. I live here. Do I want to see you? No. Not even a little. Okay... maybe a little.
Maybe it isn't the past that gets me. It's the feelings that the people in my past dredge up. There is a need to impress, a desire to achieve a reaction. I'm doing better than you thought I'd be doing, right? I'm better off without you. Is that what life is? Of course we hope we're happy but what we really want is to prove to all the nay-sayers that we could make it. Look at me now!
Sometimes I think I'm not trying to prove it to The X. I'm trying to prove it to myself. Sure, I was happy with you, but now I'm happier. You didn't break me. I'm better now than I've ever been... better than I was with you.
"Hey -- I'll be in Dublin from the 10 to the 17 [LOOK AT ME! GOING ON VACATION! LIAISING WITH ATTRACTIVE EUROPEAN MEN!] but after that I'll be here." Part of me prays hard. The same part of a woman that prays she won't find cheesecake on the menu because she knows she'll cave in and order it.
"Great! I'll give you a call when I'm in town. Have fun on the green isle!" And because I was angry at him for visiting, for breaking my heart a hundred years ago, and for getting the name of my beloved home wrong, I shouted out loud in my empty little stark apartment.
"The EMERALD isle, you idiot! EMERALD."
Maybe I'll pretend I'm out of town that day anyway. Because I might not be Diana Vreeland, but I loathe nostalgia, too.