Allison's Private Journal

March 25, 2003
10:03 PM

Dear Journal,

over the corse of only 4 days I have gotten asked out, gotten my first kiss, and gotten DUMPED. Yup that’s right, Me and Josh broke up about an hour ago. He thinks we should just be friends, doesn’t want to fuck up our great friendship. And if that’s not enough for ya, there’s some things that got said in our little convo that pissed me off. I told him I didn’t understand how he was breaking up w/ me just a couple hours after he’d said some things that would make a girl really believe someone is totally into you. I should’ve known he was in it for action when he told me he loved me the night we got together. What a fag! Even though I’m almost hating him right now, I think he’s was right. We do make really good friends. Maybe we’ll even get back together after we get to know each other better. Maybe not. He’s gonna want me so bad one day and guess what; he ain’t gonna get none! lol

—–

Yesterday, I received news that gave me the closest reaction to getting dumped as I’ve had in many years: I was rejected from a volunteer opportunity. Yes, you read that correctly–I was turned down from a volunteer position. I was deemed unfit to contribute to a certain cause that had peaked my interest in ways no cause has before. Now, I’ve managed volunteers for a nonprofit, and I realize not all applying candidates are fit to serve at every organization, but I attended an information session, spent more than four hours over three days perfecting my application, and attended the most personal interview of my life to join this organization’s efforts, all to receive a letter last night informing me that I was, in the end, not a viable candidate for the position. This was a lot of work and a lot of steps forward to be rejected, and goddammit, I put on a suit for these people.

I had gotten so excited about this chance to give back and explore an area of work I have professional interest in; if chosen to move forward, I would have been able to both volunteer in a meaningful way and figure out, with an inside perspective, if I should pursue my masters degree and a career in this line of work. This opportunity meant a lot to me–it meant perspective, which, for anyone grappling in their 20s with the question of “What the fuck should I do with my life??”, means what seems to be your entire existence and purpose on this planet. It had been a long time since I’d come across an opportunity that had such weight to it, so losing it, especially after what felt like the (unpaid!) job application of the decade, was tough. I was hurt. I was pissed. And after I initially raised my eyebrows and uttered a polite “What the fuck?”, I cried, a lot.

Remember how much getting dumped by a 13-year-old boy meant? This shit was the most important stuff happening in 8th grade. Now, at a point in life where I’m living contently-as-ever with someone who teaches 8th grade, these equally important losses are a lot different, but, damn, they still hurt like hell.

I can’t help reacting to this rejection just as I might the above 8th grade dumping. At first, it’s anger. “You’re dumping me? Do you know who the fuck I am???” Yes, in your head you can’t fathom it. It’s only when you step back a bit later–maybe 24 hours later, or five years–and you realize “well, shit, I guess the rationale for that decision was confirmed in my reaction.” I have no idea why this organization deemed me unfit to volunteer with them, so I can only speculate. It’s the same when you’re dumped as an 8th grader, or a 23-year-old, although there are always more reasonable reasons than others, and they’re usually not pretty. Still, once the anger passes to sadness and you cry a bit, and ask aloud, “Why, oh, why didn’t they love me?”, the optimist/blissfully ignorant person’s resolve is to know within themselves, and perhaps announce to the world via social media, that the rejector is missing out and they’re going to regret it.

Now a relatively stable adult in a fantastically stable relationship, I am thankfully over the shitstorm of dating. What I never thought possible is that the emotional turmoil of excitement in love, followed by rejection, betrayal, heartbreak and all the other fun accessories of life before the calm waters of Stable Relationshipland, does not end with dating. While in retrospect this seems obvious–emotional pain is a human condition not solely associated with romantic relationships–I was taken by surprise at my reaction to being rejected. It just seemed such a perfect fit, and a volunteer position? No brainer–it’s not like I was applying to a salaried job, for God’s sake. But it wasn’t, and I won’t be joining this organization in any capacity, and so I’m left to find another outlet, or outlets, to make my mark, to soothe my soul, to do whatever it is I need to do to feel whole.

After talking/crying it out last night, it became clear to me that, as in dating, finding happiness in work and service and whatever else you do to fill your time (and pay the bills) calls for balance. I had to know myself and be truly secure before I could enter a relationship with staying power; I think the same is required of finding a career, or service opportunity, or hobby or whatever you need in life that requires commitment. So while it stings that I won’t be able to volunteer in a capacity I’d hoped to, I’m happy to move on with a fresh perspective. Sometimes getting dumped is the best motivation to really, truly, open up a can of whoop-ass on life.

P.S. My apologies for Little Allison’s use of the word “fag”. Little A was an ignorant hick and did not intend to offend anyone except Josh the Dumper with this sort of language.