*NOTE: I actually meant to post this entry a few days ago, but, as I mentioned in Part II, the immense schoolwork had kept me from setting time aside to complete this post punctually.*
In the week after the second entry was written, I had (somewhat) stopped caring about work, my schooling, my appearance, and my health. I still went to my class and work, but I wasn't enthusiastic about doing so. I let my beard become a splotchy mess, I practically wore the same outfit for days on end (my sweater hid the same flannel I wore on consecutive days), and it's been a week or so since my last gym session with my brothers. This went on for days. Then, it finally happened.
I know this because my sister innocently hugged me goodnight a few days ago and I gently wept on her shoulder. My heart, my mind, and my soul couldn't carry on anymore - the weight had been too much. Then, in the following morning, I realized that I have finally reached the deepest depths this break-up will drag me down to. I had nowhere to go, but upwards and, perhaps, beyond.
The first thing to change was my appearance. In addition to finally wearing various outfits to class, two friends in the class suggested that I shave off the entire beard and mustache, rather than trimming off the splotchy regions on my face. So I did, since they've never seen me clean-shaven, so I figure I'd amuse them with how much younger I look (about 20 with a clean face). Incidentally, this shave surprised almost half the class (the professor included), and some people commented on how different I really look without facial hair, including a girl who caught my eye (more on her in a moment). I also began to replace unhealthy snacks and drinks with trail mixes and bottles of water, as well as going out for brisk walks during the small 15-minute breaks we students were given every day. This all began on Wednesday of the third week of class.
On the last day of the second week, I arrived to class about 15 minutes late, and the only seat the was available was a seat the faces the class, rather than facing the projector (which made note-taking difficult, to say the least). However, this perspective allowed me scan the room to see who was in this class, aside from the only two people I had known already (the curse of being a commuter student - you don't know many people in university, but I digress). Then I saw that girl that caught my eye, but until the last week of class, I didn't do anything (mostly since I was still wrestling with my personal dilemmas).
So after breaking down, and taking those steps to pick myself up (essentially on the last week alone), I decided that I'd work up the courage to ask her out for coffee (or lunch - it didn't matter). Her response didn't matter: all I wanted to do is prove to myself that I had the courage to ask. Besides, I was somewhat confident she was seeing someone anyhow (all pretty girls tend to be in a relationship, though it's not always the case - but again, I digress). However, the timing just wasn't there: she'd leave early or I'd stay behind to follow up with the professor or my classmates (especially because of the daunting final exam), so I couldn't really ask her out on that last week, like I wanted to. I was disappointed - I really wanted to know if I had the courage to do something so many people are strangely afraid to do. I was ready to forget about her and move on (since I was certain I wouldn't see ever again - university's kinda weird like that).
However, I did end up asking her, but on chance alone, actually. After finishing my final exam and having one last discussion with my professor, I left the classroom. As soon as I opened the door, I noticed her leave the building. For a split moment, I hesitated, but then realized that this would be my last chance, if I were to have one at all. So I chased after her, hoping to find her as soon as possible. I caught up to her, strangely enough. I introduced myself to her and we got to talking for a quick minute. When I had asked her out, I was upfront, honest, and sincere, but she shyly said no. As it turns out, she does have a boyfriend (but I wouldn't really know, after all) and she felt bad for having to say "no," but (in all honesty) I could care less of her answer (of course, if she was single and said "yes," I'd be happier still). So we exchanged goodbyes and good luck wishes for the upcoming Spring semester, and I walked away with a smile. I was happy knowing that I took that chance. Yes, I struck out and got rejected, but I took that chance and asked her.
To know that I'm capable of taking that chance gave me a lot of satisfaction. That incident with her was, perhaps, the most reassuring fact that I'm finally out of my "break-up blues." In one month alone, I've been through so much. Now, I'm ready to face the future with eyes wide open and mind reeling for what lies ahead. Relationships are a hell of thing to behold.
Until next time, fellow readers!
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