The Parting Gifts

One of the things that a woman will do to hold onto your mind after a breakup is to plant seeds... seeds in the form of last minute gifts before you leave her... or parting gifts. I never knew this happened, but I learned the hard way.

My Parting Gifts

1) The New York Times Cookbook - she had been meaning to give it to me for a long time. I love to cook... i love cookbooks. I guess she figured better late than never

2) Bath and Body Works fresh vanilla lotion - a favorite of hers. I would always use it after i spent the night at her house and successfully had stolen about 3 bottles of the stuff. it was her scent. it would haunt me forever

3) A CD labeled "Songs that remind me of you" - I know, but that deserves its own post.

4) A card. I'm hoping that was written while I was asleep.

As i walked out of her place, i was in shock. It was a bright and sunny day, beautiful weather... a crisp fall morning. But everything seemed dull. I felt numb. I was in a stupor the entire subway ride to work. I was on auto pilot. I didnt know where I was going... i was just going. I turned on my iPod. I needed to switch my mind. The first song I listened to post-breakup was "Virtual Insanity" by Jamiroquai. I'll never forget that.

I got to work, arrived at my desk, placed down my bag, and reached inside for the letter. I was alone in the office, except for a fellow employee on the other side of the office who tunes out everything anyway. I pulled the card out of the envelope and this is what i saw...



And inside, the official card read "We just fit." but this is what she added...

"Christian,
So I guess this is it - our happy intermission. I know you're right, we gave it a good try.
I'm really sad to be leaving this way. I wish there was something I could do to make it different. but that would be impossible. I meant it when I said don't let those guys destroy your spirit - you are so special and it breaks my heart when people don't see that (even if it is a joke)
Thank you so much for everything - your help, your love, and your friendship. Especially your friendship.
I'll miss you baby. Please try to not let someone steal your heart while I'm gone. :(

xxoo
Kristin"

I broke down into tears after the first sentence. I couldnt control it. It was the culmination of the last 12 hours. I had been so cold. So stone faced. It had to come out somewhere. I cried for 2 minutes straight, head in hand, quite audibly, trying to regain composure several times with fail. I had not cried in years. I've shed one during a movie here and there, but that was intentionally evoked emotion. These were real tears brought on by pure, raw, and real emotion. It hurt so much. What did I do? It was over. and I did it.

Inside the card was a separate insert/card that read "Act Upon Your Inner Impulses" on the front and on the back, read the following:
"If you play the game of life, you'll have plenty of wins and losses, regardless of your talent level. Being inspired means that you're willing to act upon your inner impulses so that you'll never experience the pain of dying while still wondering, What if...?"

What was she trying to tell me?

I wasnt proud of what I did, but it was done. My heart was splitting open. I was in pain. I had pushed away someone who I loved... someone i was close to. I was grieving, and this was only the beginning.

Working for a radio show is not easy - your life is an open book. Something my now ex always hated, but was willing to look past because she knew it made me happy. I didnt want to talk about it. I told her I wouldnt talk about it. But who was i kidding, i was going to talk about it on the air, not because I wanted to, but because I HAD to. I wanted to crawl up into a ball under my desk and cry, but how does that make for good radio. So, dragging my feet, I did my job, i went on with my day. At 3p ET, I found myself in studio for the start of the Covino & Rich Show. At at 3:04p ET, it began. I bared my soul for all to hear, but it was good in the end. It helped me work through the initial shock. I cried a little. The cd was played then pretended to be broken. I couldnt let that happen for real, I'm too sentimental. I worked through it... for now. As good friends, everyone told me it was all for the best. Maybe it was, but I couldnt see that right now. I only saw the pain and loss. I missed her. But there was no turning back.

The Breakup (The Ballad of Christian and Kristin)

There is one thing that remains constant, that everyone shares, amongst relationships and love, and that's the breakup. We've all experienced this, ALL OF US. While each of us experiences this in our own way, and to different degrees, the general idea is the same. Well 2 days ago, i joined the breakup club. My new, yet prospering relationship of 5 1/2 months came to an end. I did the breaking up, but experienced all the heartache as if I were dumped. This may make sense to some, but to truly understand, I must take you back to the morning of August 13th of this year...

While the details are a bit fuzzy, as I had just arose from a deep sleep to my phone feverishly vibrating on my night stand. It was my girlfiend - who I had not spoken to in 2 days. She was in an emergency room, after just being hit by a bicycle. As that day continued, more and more details emerged. The final verdict - a depressed tibial plateau fracture. Essentially the top of her tibia where it meets the knee was shattered into a bunch of pieces and the bone was compressed pushing it far away from the joint. surgery was needed. So now what? The then girl I was just dating was injured. Where most guys might run the other way and not look back, i put on my helmet and gear and ran into the fire. I knew what I signed up for (or at least I thought I did).

The next few months would be a challenge, but I was up to it. Although we had talked about not labeling ourselves and just enjoying the moment, things change. Circumstances change. I asked her to be my official girlfriend to show her I wasnt going anywhere. She accepted. But this was no normal relationship. The days of us going out to restaurants all over the city, or taking walks, or doing any physical activity, were over. We were launched into a world of take out and one-sided travel. But I loved her... i love her... and it was something I was willing to do. It was not her choice, and I didnt blame her for it. I still dont.

Now here's where things get a bit tricky. I had recently helped her move from her 3rd floor williamsburg Brooklyn apartment to the Upper East Side apartment. Quite the upgrade, but with reason... she was going back to school. She had resigned from her job just a week ago. She had vacated her apartment to save money. And her former employer was gracious enough to let her move into a practically vacated apartment to be closer to school in exchange for the position as a personal assistant. Well, the accident put a major wrench in these plans. She decided to defer from school for a year. And while she agreed to still be a personal assistant, how much can you really do from the confinement of an apartment? So she was unemployed and injured living in someone elses apartment. Dont worry, it gets better.

She had surgery 2 short weeks later. Along with her dad, i escorted her the short trip around the corner from her Upper East Side residence to Lenox Hill Hospital. I hate hospitals... nothing good has ever come of me visiting people in a hospital. But I love her, I'm supportive, so I was there for her. After her successful surgery, I sat with her all night (even though the anesthesia prevents her from remembering). The next day after work, I went over to keep her company. She laid in bed, crying in my arms as teh meds wore off. But I love her, I'm supportive, so I was there for her.

Over the next few weeks she got better. At first, I would kneel at her bedside and help her do exercises. Soon, she would do them on her own. She could get around on crutches. I happen to have a wheelchair in my garage at home, so I lugged it from scotch plains NJ to manhattan one day. I wanted her to be able to get around. So then we had date nights again. I would wheel her around the upper east side to restaurants. Things were getting back to normal. I loved pushing her around. It made her happy and that made me happy. I was proud to have her in front of me... the hot looking girl in the chair. I invited her to a wedding of my friend - she danced. I would pick her up at her place and bring her to my place every so often - she liked the change of scenery, and frankly, so did I. After all, her place had more sun than a greenhouse. As fall set it, we went apple picking. Sure, she passed out in the orchard from dehydration (and didnt tell me until later to not get me upset) but she made an effort to be a normal girl, i can tell she did it not only for herself, but for me, because she loved me. I introduced her to my family. That's something i thought I would never do. But I wanted to show my family the girl I loved.

I know she loved me... i could feel it from her. She would always tell me she loved me, and I would say "I know, I can tell." She never understood how, but I could just feel it... in the way she looked at me... in the way she would touch me... in a kind of unspoken way that you only understand if youre the one being loved. I'm not sure if I ever gave her that feeling. The only thing we ever had in common was the fact that we had nothing in common, but that never mattered. When we were together, we just worked.

To be honest, she told me she loved me very early on, maybe too early. I knew I felt something for her, although at the time I wasnt sure if it was love. I mean, it had to be, I've known her for over 10 years, it had to be love. But despite my doubts, i reciprocated as to not hurt her feelings. I feel like we say it sometimes because we're supposed to, because maybe there's an accepted timeline in the relationship rulebook. And maybe we mean it, but not like we should. But I could tell that towards the end, i really started to mean it. I felt something that I have never felt before in my life, so I KNEW it had to be love. I wanted to see her... i wanted to be around her... i wanted to be with her. When i wasnt around her, I missed her. And when I was with her, things made sense. We disagreed on a lot of things, but when it came to loving each other, there was nothing disagreeable.

But back to the breakup... she was a personal assistant for the woman she was living with. This woman was going through a move, and Kristin was helping, but it was driving her CRAZY. She was under so much stress that her healing was paying the price. She came to what I'm sure was a difficult decision to abandon everything in New York City and move 300 miles north to her parents house. She broke this news to me monday. I told her I would come over the next day and we would talk. In those 24 hours, i came to a very difficult decision. There was no way our relationship would function long-distance. She was in an area with no cell service and internet that can only be accessed by going to the town's public library in the center of town. She was 5 hours away and I work 6 days a week, so we'd at most see each other 1-2 times a month, if even that. A relationship with emotional and mental minus physical is a friendship, and as I've told her for years, i never wanted to be her friend, I've always wanted something more. I needed to be near her. I know people make long distance relationships work all the time, and it seems like I took the easy way out, but I feel like I avoided delaying the inevitable and just making it harder down the line.

I unfortunately am dominated by a logical brain. I didnt want her to leave. I wanted to say that love would keep us together and love would see us through and whatever other cliche you can think of. The romantic in me wanted to run to the gate at the airport after having run through the pouring rain, but life doesnt work that way. She wanted me to say we'd make it work. She wanted me to beg her to stay. But I told her i wanted her to get better and the only way that would happen is if she went home. So i told her that we're done. She's leaving in two weeks. and we're done. but we had to make a clean break. If we continued to hang out, we would do what I feared... continuing maintaining half a relationship from 5 hours away.

I kept my distance from her this entire discussion. I was afraid if i came close, i wouldnt want to let go. And i was right. I wanted to leave. I wanted to say goodbye. I was in shock, so the emotions hadnt kicked in yet, but I wanted to get away. I went over to her as she stopped crying for the 4th time, and I hugged her tight. She began to cry again. I whispered in her ear "I love you" It was the first time I could bring myself to say it that night. I didnt know what our future would hold, but I wanted her to know that. You cant turn off love, and I wanted her to know that I still loved her.

She asked me to stay the night... one last night next to each other... one last hug... one last kiss. I couldnt leave her so coldly. But I didnt want my emotions to take over, even though I know she was hoping they would. But I stayed. I knew i could never look her in the eyes again if I didnt. After I decided, i laid in bed next to her. We eventually got closer, made out a bit, and then I decided to stop and go to sleep. So three hours later, our breakup had been finalized, however the sentence had yet to be carried out. She stayed close to me that night. I stared at the ceiling for a while, wondering if I had made the right decision... wondering what this meant for us... wondering if we would ever be the same again. I never came to a conclusion on any of those things.

Morning came. I woke earlier than usual. We messed around a little more, but slowly my emotions were kicking in. It was time to go to work. I'm bad at leaving. If I was good at it, i would have left the night before. Sure, she asked me to stay, but I never wanted to leave. Leaving would make it absolute. But I dragged through my morning routine at that apartment one last time... going to the other bathroom to drop a deuce, going into her one person bathroom shower stall to shower with Vanilla birthday cake body wash. getting dressed with the small change of clothes i would always carry in my overnight bag. but this time, my bag had a few additions. She had presents, or what I like to call parting gifts. She asked me not to look at them in front of her. so i didnt.

we hugged and kissed goodbye. we exchanged I love yous. She thanked me. I assumed it was for staying one more night, but maybe for the past 5 1/2 months. I told her I would see her when she gets back. She told me that I better change my number, because if I'm with someone when I get back, she's GOING to steal me back.

i walked down the long hall to the front door. I turned back to look at her one last time. She stood on her crutches looking back at me, backlit by the window. [Click] I'll never forget that image.

789551

so of late, I've had this overwhelming urge to blog. yes, I'll admit it has been a while, but this is not gonna be one of those posts where I start out making excuses for my lack of blogging and then go into some massive recap of the time since I last posted a blog. So, having said that, I feel like my brain is just overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions, so I think just slowly taking some of those out will allow other thoughts and emotions to form. So, as I plan to treat this blog like my own personal pensieve (geek alert), let us begin.

Let's just say that over the past several weeks, I've learned some things about myself. Maybe things that I already knew were there, but the awareness was inflamed. (oh, note to self, pick up cream). So what have I learned, you rhetorically ask. Well, for those who really know me, they know that I have this tendency to be a little reluctant to divulge any personal feelings out into the open. I've never looked at this as a personal attack at any person as a trust issue, it's just that some things I don't feel the need to bring into the open, moreso with people I know. Because while it may not affect the person I tell, it almost opens me up to a sense of vulnerability, at least that's how I think. Ultimately, while you make seek counsel from others, looking for any sort of alternate view, whether it be to validate what you think or gain new perspective, it is ultimately ones self that is still left with their problem at the end of the day, a problem they can only deal with (in most cases) and a problem they will be left to solve. So, i guess in a way, I eliminate the middle man. And besides, I'm probably one of the best people to have a conversation with anyway, because no matter what I say, I'm always right.

ok, now, despite all this, which in a way, I still stand by, i've discovered that I need to be a little more open with my feelings. Let's just say that some of the events over the last 2 months have caused my inner monologue to go into overdrive, to the point of overload. There finally came a point where I couldn't hold it anymore and broke down to some poor caller at work. As I sat there isolated in my studio with just one ear on the other end of the phone, it all came pooring out - The circumstances behind everything, including feelings that have been building up for years. And as it goes against everything I stand for, it was hard to admit how good it felt. Maybe because I'm always the listener, it felt good to just have someone there to listen to me, I don't know. And it's not like i have eager ears, but it just goes back to the whole vulnerability thing. i could analyze it til I'm blue in the... well, you know. She gave me her number to call her and tell her how things went. I never called back, maybe for fear of getting into other issues plaguing me, or maybe for fear of dealing with another psycho. We all know how that turned out.

So I think being more open is in my future. I may not necessarily just come out and say stuff, but I guess if you ask the right questions, the combination will be broken.

Yup, tis my life.

You know, not to sound egotistical and conceited, but one could take a step back and look and my life and say it's pretty cool. Well, I've got news for you, it aint! I'll admit, however, that it does have its moments. Case in point...



Granted the expression on her face screams "get me away from this dude who tracked me down the hall to take a picture" I still had the gianormous pleasure of meeting Rachael Ray. I absolutely adore her. She has fueled my passion for cooking, among other things. There's just something about her that no matter how perky and annoying she might be, you're just drawn to her. I wanted to beg her for a job with her, even if it meant being one of those people that runs in during the break on 30 minute meals and does some of the cooking. (you know she totally does that) She fascinates me, and I hope someday I can get paid to cook, or go around the country and eat, or eat with celebs.

an aura of history permeates the air

It's not often that we get opportunites in life that provide us with feelings of utter joy and excitement. Don't get me wrong, your average day can bring joy and happiness, but there are few moments in life that elicit a unique response that cannot be gathered elsewhere.

I received an e-mail from a coworker earlier in the week. Someone needed to go to Yankee stadium and record one of the players for an upcoming radio commercial. That person was me. And the person I was to record was Mariano Rivera. As a longtime, non bandwagon, yankee fan, you can imagine the excitement I was feeling... the excitement of getting to meet one of the players face to face, and the excitement of getting to rub it into my yankee fan friends' faces. Yeah, I'm good like that.

So this friday, DAT machine in hand, I hopped on the D train and made my way into the Bronx. I walked out of the subway at 161st street, something familiar from the previous games I've attended, but today was different. Today I wouldnt be going to gate d with ticket in hand. Today I would be going around to the press gate, the entrance for players and men with cameras and special photo ID's. I arrived early, in a professional manner, but almost too early, so I checked out the team store. Shocked at the price inflation, I simply browsed while news of the pope's funeral echoed throughout. I admired the case of authentic signed game day merchandise and was in awe of the price tags that lay beside them. The time was approaching. I returned outside and made my way to the press gate. I walked inside to the lobby of the yankee offices, in the back of my mind thinking, "I wonder if this is where george costanza used to come in" I met up with the clients for the commercial. Soon, after the business BS that I was lucky enough to avoid, we made our way out to the field. This part was unknown to me. I thought we'd be in some room somewhere and he would walk in, do what he had to do in his thick spanish accent, and walk out. But as I was handed my field pass, my heart skipped a beat.

We walked into the empty stadium, empty except for the field staff preparing for the thousands of fans that were to arrive in just a few short hours. Then we walked down to the field. In order to test for good sound, I was told to hop down into the dugout. I tried to hold back the elation, but it was most likely uncovered by the enormous grim attempting to break through my professional demeanor. Yes, not only was I on the field, but also in dugout of the New York Yankees. Within minutes, Mariano emerged from the tunnel, in uniform for his photo shoot. We shook hands and got down to business.

It all moved so fast and was over within a matter of minutes. At the risk of being unprofessional, no picture was taken with him, no autograph was signed. Instead, I removed my camera from my jacket pocket and snapped a simple memory of an empty dugout. A dugout where legends have sat and made decisions that have altered the sports history books.



As it was over, I made my way back outside the stadium, and made my way back to the subway station, reveling in my experience. Did it just happen? I pulled out my camera just to make sure.

As I entered the station, I noticed caution tape surrounding the stairwell of the downtown D. Signal problems. Any other time would have been upsetting, but not today.

And that's my day at yankee stadium.

Chris on a Sunday

Does this disturb anyone else?



...thought so

I heart Rob Thomas

So rob thomas was up at the station, something that excited me greatly. Believe it or not, and mock me if you may, but I've been a matchbox 20 fan for quite a long time now, and I have the beatup copy of "yourself or someone like you" (and of course everything after) in my cd case to prove it. Rob was always one of the people that I wanted to meet, and I would hope would come through work sooner or later, and I got my wish. I can leave a happy man now. Anyway, let me tell you something about rob, which you may or may not know... He is probably one of the most down-to-earth, nicest, well-spoken guy out there, and I'm not just talking artists, but people in general. He's the kind of guy you'd love to have as your friend and hang with at the bar for a while. Along with my boss, we were shooting the shit (that means conversing to the kids out there) probably for 15 minutes, and just listening to him talk was quite enthralling. I believe we got on the topic of how as a celebrity, you have to appreciate your fame, and can't use it as an exuse to act as if you're better than everyone else (at least in a nutshell that is). He mentioned how all these big names that have lasted for so many years are pleasant and down-to-earth in person and talk with their fans, because they know and appreciate who made them who they are. I think after our little conversation yesterday, how brief it may have been, I've gained a little more respect for him. I know I've only been at this station for a short time, but I've seen my share of artists pass through, and not everybody shares this view or practices it. You have someone like Eminem, who feels the need to fly over by helicopter from new york city, with one helicopter for half his security entourage, and then specially resquests Taco Bell in the studio, and then just acts like he's the shit. Yes, that may work for him, but doesn't say much about him as a person. Or I look at someone like Chad Michael Murray, who I never met personally, but heard from coworkers that he's a tool. It's just nice to know that there are celebs out there who act as if they're just like everyone else, because in a way, they are.

But anyway, as you saw above, I had to get my picture with Rob to add to the collection.