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Coming together
My soup plan is working out wonderfully, I think I'll keep it up indefinitely. Prepare stock (onion, carrots, leek/onion-type thing they sell everywhere here) Monday morning, then just dump some greens and noodles and/or dumplings and/or tofu and/or an egg in the pot when I get home, adding a little water if necessary. Ten minutes later, soup's on! Though I really must remember to buy ginger for next week. Also, this is incredibly cheap: I get five good meals for under $10.
Another side-effect of the soup (and salads for lunch) is losing over an inch around the hips in the past month*. Of course, there are many factors at play. The fact that it's a ten-minute walk to the station is one, the fact that I'm not sitting around being depressed is another. I've been doing a lot of walking, exploring the neighbourhood and going further afield, checking up on the plum blossoms (pretty much all gone now, sadly) and the cherry blossoms (on their way!), finding temples and shopping streets and Engrish galore.
Isn't it the most liberating thing in the world to tell yourself I don't have to care anymore? Let him be an immature, irresponsible, selfish jerk; his stupid little cow can have him. Seems she's already living with him, or at least staying with him, in the apartment I vacated barely over a month ago. I still go there between teaching classes at the Embassy, since I have four hours of spare time. Though there aren't any overt signs of her presence, I've twice found her underwear lying around. Either it's accidental, in which case it proves they're just as classy as I thought they were, or it's on purpose, in which case, I know she's there, her hair's all over the place. And if it's to try to make me jealous, well... For me to be jealous, she'd have to have something that I lack and want. Let's see, G? Hardly. Insecurities, low self-esteem and a boatload of other issues? No thanks. If she thinks being a good wife is accepting anything at all to keep him happy, that's her problem, not mine. And I feel I can say these things about her because of what G's told me and also from my one conversation with her -- so you've been cheated on in the past and hurt by it; your answer to that is... to have an affair with a married man who won't leave his wife for you (I'm the one who forced him to choose, actually, it seems she'd have been content to wait on the off-chance that he'd grow a pair and act like an adult, for once, and make his own damn decision). That's really smart. Either she's so in need of any kind of affection that she doesn't care who she hurts, or she's a complete hypocrite. Neither of which I can respect. And I know that G is the main one at fault here, but that doesn't excuse her actions either. The only way they could be would be if she didn't know about me. But she did. I guess I'm just still outraged that a woman could do that, especially when she's (supposedly) been through the same thing. It's pathetic. Like Lizzie Bennett, I must judge my own sex quite severely.
I don't really mean to sound flippant, because it's all true. I'm honestly not jealous. I'm sad that I wasted so much time and energy on someone I thought was worth it. Any bitterness I have is because I overestimated him and thought he had more emotional maturity than an eight-year-old. It's not normally the fault of a single person when a relationship goes bad, and I think I understand where I went wrong, but I believe I can honestly say that in this case, I did everything I could to save our marriage -- everything I could that didn't go against my principles, that is -- and he barely even tried. If I were the vengeful sort, which I'm discovering I'm not, really, I'd tell myself that moving on, being happy, doing well and looking good are the best revenge. I'm doing those things because they're best for me, because I want to be happy. And even though I'm certainly not where I pictured myself six months ago, I'm content. I'm where I want to be. I'm where I should be. And that's the most important thing.
* I've been wanting to write about my weight, or rather the concept of weight in general, for some time, but there's so much I'd like to say that I don't know if I'll get around to it. But for now I'll make myself motivated and say that it's coming... Eventually.
Another side-effect of the soup (and salads for lunch) is losing over an inch around the hips in the past month*. Of course, there are many factors at play. The fact that it's a ten-minute walk to the station is one, the fact that I'm not sitting around being depressed is another. I've been doing a lot of walking, exploring the neighbourhood and going further afield, checking up on the plum blossoms (pretty much all gone now, sadly) and the cherry blossoms (on their way!), finding temples and shopping streets and Engrish galore.
Isn't it the most liberating thing in the world to tell yourself I don't have to care anymore? Let him be an immature, irresponsible, selfish jerk; his stupid little cow can have him. Seems she's already living with him, or at least staying with him, in the apartment I vacated barely over a month ago. I still go there between teaching classes at the Embassy, since I have four hours of spare time. Though there aren't any overt signs of her presence, I've twice found her underwear lying around. Either it's accidental, in which case it proves they're just as classy as I thought they were, or it's on purpose, in which case, I know she's there, her hair's all over the place. And if it's to try to make me jealous, well... For me to be jealous, she'd have to have something that I lack and want. Let's see, G? Hardly. Insecurities, low self-esteem and a boatload of other issues? No thanks. If she thinks being a good wife is accepting anything at all to keep him happy, that's her problem, not mine. And I feel I can say these things about her because of what G's told me and also from my one conversation with her -- so you've been cheated on in the past and hurt by it; your answer to that is... to have an affair with a married man who won't leave his wife for you (I'm the one who forced him to choose, actually, it seems she'd have been content to wait on the off-chance that he'd grow a pair and act like an adult, for once, and make his own damn decision). That's really smart. Either she's so in need of any kind of affection that she doesn't care who she hurts, or she's a complete hypocrite. Neither of which I can respect. And I know that G is the main one at fault here, but that doesn't excuse her actions either. The only way they could be would be if she didn't know about me. But she did. I guess I'm just still outraged that a woman could do that, especially when she's (supposedly) been through the same thing. It's pathetic. Like Lizzie Bennett, I must judge my own sex quite severely.
I don't really mean to sound flippant, because it's all true. I'm honestly not jealous. I'm sad that I wasted so much time and energy on someone I thought was worth it. Any bitterness I have is because I overestimated him and thought he had more emotional maturity than an eight-year-old. It's not normally the fault of a single person when a relationship goes bad, and I think I understand where I went wrong, but I believe I can honestly say that in this case, I did everything I could to save our marriage -- everything I could that didn't go against my principles, that is -- and he barely even tried. If I were the vengeful sort, which I'm discovering I'm not, really, I'd tell myself that moving on, being happy, doing well and looking good are the best revenge. I'm doing those things because they're best for me, because I want to be happy. And even though I'm certainly not where I pictured myself six months ago, I'm content. I'm where I want to be. I'm where I should be. And that's the most important thing.
* I've been wanting to write about my weight, or rather the concept of weight in general, for some time, but there's so much I'd like to say that I don't know if I'll get around to it. But for now I'll make myself motivated and say that it's coming... Eventually.