Monday, March 28, 2011

Engagement Rings and Mental Hospitals

I currently sit ten feet from a flock of women congradulating one of their fellow pharm students on her engagment. "O, wow. He must REALLY love you?" Must be another big ring. I can't decide anymore if I even want to get married or if I just want a fatty ring on my finger to signify the reality that I in fact, am loved by a man and that I am loved a hell of a lot more (based on ring size) in comparison to THAT girl (whomever she may be). I should just take out a huge loan and buy myself a 2 carat sparkler then get skinny for my fake wedding and be ridiculously cheery all the time to try and channel this everpresent bride vibe around me. I mean not a minute goes by in this state without another engagment and based on my current relationship status it just really makes me what to scream, "HOW DO YOU ALL KNOW THAT YOU KNOW?" Oh, and it also makes me want to punch a few people in the face. Sometimes, I'm not sure if this is due to a mix of both ring madness and med school hell. Eh, whatev. Oh, and P.S. Mr. Brad Pitt got engaged last night. Mr. Brad Pitt is my first love. I fell in love my freshman year in college when I saw him from across the cafeteria and thought he looked like, you guessed it, Brad Pitt. I remember thinking to myself, the girl that gets to date him is so lucky. Well, about a year later, he happened to notice me in spandex trotting around campus and a blind date occured soon after. We quickly became two virgins in love. The break up, or multiple "breaks" - the reason I do not believe in "taking breaks" - did not end well. But I honestly have no hard feelings. It was just not the right time and I honestly was not the girl for him and still know that I am not, despite maybe wishing that I was. But man, it still feels like a quick, direct hit to the groin or the equivalent of that for a girl - whatever that may be. She is probably perfect. Most likely a virgin, or a teacher for handicap kids, or has attended BIble study every Wednesday for all of her adult life or keeps a perfect house or is just simply balanced and/or mentally stable. Man. My life is sooOOooo dirty in comparison. Well, in other less sparkly news, Dr. Jew Fro Andrew is in the psych ward across the street. I wonder why my heart did not drop more when I heard the news. Shouldn't I automatically return to those feelings I know all too well and just die inside at the thought of someone else having to endure it? But honestly, all I could think about was how he hasn't even hit the worst of it. It's the re-building that is the hardest - knowing where to start, how to start, where to go, again. I can't even remember a first step I took to get back on track (and who really knows if I am back on track). People say you go through things so that you can better understand them yourself in order to help others. Is this true or is it just the way you make someone feel better when they are going through shit? Because as much as I want to help Dr. Jew Fro Andrew, I know it's going to be totally up to him, a deep down personal battle that only he can come pull himself out of. Oh, it's so sad. And I wonder what I can do and how I fit into it. Another day of sparkly rings and psych wards.

No comments:

Post a Comment