Danger Zone

I am entirely and completely on edge today. In fact, I feel a bit like I'm on the verge of either exploding with anger or breaking into hysterical tears. I can feel how thin the layer of calm in my life is right now, and I don't like the feeling at all.

I think it's time to get back to the gym en serio, as El Guapo would say.

I've been whining idly about a little pudge that's been gathering around my middle since I stopped working out regularly in the midst of the preparation for the auction. First my time was sucked up by that, then I got sick, then I made it to the gym about twice before I got sick again and all of a sudden, it's been almost two months since the gym was part of my routine.

Part of the problem is the fact that my group of gym buddies has broken up this semester. We just can't seem to get it together to go in anymore. And I haven't found anyone new to go with yet. I don't know why it matters so much to me, since it's not like we take neighboring treadmills or ellipticals and talk while we're there. In fact, when I'm fifteen minutes in, I probably can't really talk anyway-- I'm not there to socialize, I'm there to kick serious butt (specifically my own). Yet I can't seem to motivate myself to walk over to the gym alone and do the same thing.

Now that it's getting warmer and nicer again, I'm also planning to start running in my neighborhood again. I've had to push back my 5K goal in light of the beating my lungs have taken in the past six weeks, but I'd really like to finish a 5K before I take the bar. Just because. And my neighborhood is a nice place to walk. But I'm not sure how great it will be for running, since the many leafy trees lining the streets have buckled the sidewalks in several places-- in some places raising the slate blocks by several inches. But I think I'll give it a whirl.

Wish my knees luck.

A friend of some of my friends is going through a very rough time right now following a break up. I think she feels like we think she's being overly dramatic or silly or something because some people commented about their lack of surprise when the breakup happened. I guess people don't realize how much a comment like that can hurt. I know one of the most painful things that happened in the breakup with Finbar was when his mother -- who I loved dearly and thought of as part of my family (and who I still miss, even today)-- commented that she always knew we'd never get married.

I want so badly to tell her that it will get better, it really will, even though I know that it doesn't feel that way. I want to tell her how it was for me, how I woke up some days and thought I'd die from the ache and sadness and loneliness and grief, and other days I wished I would die, or at least that I could just go to sleep and not wake up for a very long time. I want to tell her that it's her heart, and if she cared-- and still cares-- deeply for the person who hurt her, that's okay and it's normal and it's not something that is silly or unworthy of respect. And I want to tell her that it's going to get easier to pull yourself through each day, but that when the bad days happen-- when you wake up long after you thought you'd passed the raw, overwhelming hurt and moved into a dull ache of missing and feel just as bad as you did when the pain was fresh and new-- it's okay to be weak and to cry with your friends and to mourn. It's okay to take whatever measure you have to take to get your life back in balance. I want to tell her that one day it will be okay to hear the song that describes your relationship on the radio, that one day you'll be able to cry tears that don't feel like they're being ripped from the deepest part of your soul, then you'll be able to feel like crying, but the tears won't come, then you'll feel a twang of your heartstrings, then you'll feel a distant ache, and eventually, it won't be the dominant part of your life and you'll even find that you've gone days and days without even thinking of it.

But I'm just a friend of a friend, so it feels like I'd be butting in where I don't belong. I don't want to make it worse; I don't want to be just another person saying "You'll get over it" when I know that she feels like she never will (even though, probably, she knows in her head that she will-- feeling it in your heart is something entirely different). I want to hug her and make it feel better, but I don't know if that would be what she'd want. How do you reach out to someone you don't really know, when such a personal matter is involved?