I’ve got this video on my phone. Of my Tahani. My little Tina Fey clone. Doing this goofy little Tina Fey dance. And just being generally awesome.
I keep watching it.
And crying.
Like a fucking stalker.
Or a crazy ex-girlfriend.
I’ve never actually been one of those. I’ve never been invested enough. But I realize after this weekend that I could be. I have it in me.
Because Tina Tahani Fey. Fucking. Broke. Up. With. Me.
I mean, she handed in her resignation. To our boss.
But whatever.
She fucking broke up with me.
And I can NOT stop crying about it.
When she told me. Friday morning. Initially. I tried to be discrete. And cried in the bathroom like a grown ass adult woman.
But by 10am, I was like, fuck it. I can’t even care who I’m making uncomfortable.
I just started rolling up into rooms and offices and breaking the fuck down until people handed me food. And then backed out of the room.
And just about the time I’d think I was ok. And done producing tears….
Nope. There they are. They’re coming again. They’re coming right now.
Hand me a tissue.
And food.
Dammit.
Even writing this I keep stopping to fucking cry.
I don’t know if this is a new thing for me. Getting overly invested in people.
Fuck. Hang on. I need more tissues.
And a snack.
So, when she came in to tell me. That she was about to hand in her notice. She brought a bag of work shirts with her. Because she doesn’t fucking need them anymore.
And asked if I wanted them.
Yes. Yes I do.
And I will be huddled over here in the corner cuddling them for the rest of the day. Or year.
And maybe I smelled them.
Maybe I wrapped them all around me.
Maybe I wore one like a scarf for the rest of the day.
While I watched videos of her. And shoving Facebook memories of the two of us in her face.
Look at it! Just look at it!!
And started fucking crying again.
Maybe.
Crazy stalker ex-girlfriend.
That’s what I am now.
But y’all don’t know.
I mean, some of you say you know.
Like, the counselors came in. Looking a little scared. To make eye contact with me. And maybe sat there for a bit. Talking to Tina about her new job (read that with the tone of voice it demands). And ignoring the fact that I was even in the room.
This is my office!
You’re fucking counselors!
Help me make this shit ok!
Co-Worker B saw me sitting there. Tears rolling down my face. And immediately went out to get me food. Real food. Which was probably the right move.
And then when he returned, immediately started going through my things in my office. Because he figures he’s replacing Tina Tahani Fey as my Work BFF.
So I guess he has the right to do that now?
Of course, Carlos was nowhere to be found. Whatevs. I know he’ll read this. And maybe feel guilty about not being there for me in my time of need. And throw food at me Monday morning or something.
And. Ok. So this one may not make a whole lot of sense to you initially. And I’ll probably revisit it in more detail at some point. I really should have explained it by now. (Seriously. Life comes at you fast. And this is a challenging one to explain.) But GBFFWHTBS (it’s just too much to spell out and I’m in an emotionally fragile place right now. don’t place expectations on me. dammit.) brought cookies and pretzels and spent some time making me laugh. Because we’re the same person. So he knows that humor is my coping mechanism.
And also that I was already at my extroverting limit before that morning. And while I thrive on the attention of others. And this was obviously garnering plenty of attention for me. I was desperate for some introvert time. So he let me just sit there. And not talk.
Sometimes it’s enough to just be understood.
Except the fucking tears.
So many tears.
Because Tina Tahani Fucking Fey.
We get each other.
We are nothing alike in who we are as people. She is a way better human than me.
But we get each other.
We make a shit show of a process flow fairly seamlessly. Because after four years of working through extremely high stress times, we know how to anticipate each other’s needs.
Hell. We had that shit figured out after year one.
We can read each other. Like damn books. One really good Christian book and one book that should probably be placed somewhere in the back where small children can’t read it. But still. Books.
And more than that. We care. We fucking care about each other.
We counsel each other.
I mean, sure. She does most of the counseling. Because she’s an amazing human. And I’m a fucking mess.
But I like to think I allowed her a safe space to vent and process and destress, too.
She just doesn’t require that as much as my ridiculous ass does.
And the laughter.
Who in the hell is gonna laugh until we pee with me?
Who is gonna bring me pantyliners as gifts?
And give me crowns? She gave me a fucking crown, y’all.
And feed into my obnoxious attention seeking by going way overboard decorating my office?
Who is going to run to building 2 to celebrate a child’s success with me?
Who is gonna explain bible stories to me in a way that my really questionable but well-intentioned brain can relate to?
Who is going to call me on my bullshit? I need discipline, y’all. I’m a fucking wild card. I don’t even know why I say or do some of the shit I do.
SIGH
Ok.
So I’m happy for her. I’m genuinely happy for her. Because I think this is the right thing for her. And I want her to have the right things.
I’m gonna be pissy as hell with the rest of y’all.
Until they find me a new Tina Tahani Fey.
And she better be just like the original.
Apparently you can do that. Find replacement people that look just like the originals. (Also another story that may or may not ever get told. But probably will. Because I need as many people as possible to be aware so y’all know where to go when I come up missing.)
But I swear, if she doesn’t lead with “I’m the new Tina. Here’s some Big Daddy’s pizza.” then I’m walking the fuck out.
And I’m gonna roll up into Tina’s new place of employment, wearing all of her work shirts, and demand a job.
Because that’s a totally rational response when someone breaks up with you.
Tina is mine.