the eventuality of getting over james was not real to me until yesterday. sprawled on bxco's bed in the middle of the afternoon, reading short stories--i was struck by the inevitability of getting over james. just a month ago, anything but pathetic heartwrenching wound-picking was infinitely far away. thinking about my heartbroke self, i imagine that i had the same bearing as the woman who sold me cigarettes and asked me about paris--i had just come back. the way she turned "paris" over in her mouth made it sound like she hardly believed it was an idea, much less a potential experience (ironically, she worked in an airport). she made change and i felt empty, in a way only the privilleged can. i tried to impress upon her that the post office gave passports! to everyone! she should go! to paris! she was uninspired (i know much more now that it's easy to sound condescending--even when you're genuine). paris was still vague. i think that i must have pressed my lips together and politely (it's my memory, if i wanna pretend i'm polite let me) let friends of mine reassure me about "time" and "wounds healing" or "totally understanding". over-james was a place i would never be, and probably a place that would never exist. paris was not a possibility for me. and now...now i feel the way i did when i stretched my hand through the barrier on the second level of the eiffel tower and let go of the first paper airplane of the day. i'd written silly french phrases on it--and i aimed at the sternest people. i own this place. it's that giddy moment right before you break a rule and aren't quite sure if you'll get away with it--(there are signs in english (of course) about not throwing things off the edge). it's a good feeling. it's the reason i break the rules.
in fact, being trapped in that sad nevernever place is the thing i can't imagine (this is only 1/2 way true. i won't forget how foolish i was--fuckin' a, i was lame).

so, the moral of the story is: if you want to get over your ex boyfriend...go dancing in new york all weekend and hold hands with someone who exists like they mean it. be sure that this someone is substantially different from the ex. for me, it meant wading through all that heartbroke muck first.

and now i feel like a new pair of shoes. expensive shoes. red ones.

next activity: getting past the disgust & scorn i have for james. ah, apathy will be a nice place to have him. and i don't doubt that i can get there.