Don't get me wrong-I was alarmed when I woke up this morning with a rare phenomenon that I will call "Break Up Hand Syndrome". Here, I took a picture:
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| Don't judge. The camera adds 10 pounds. |
Scary, right? I hadn't even known I'd been crying. Even so, I'm damn impressed my eye make up has made it far enough to land on my hand when I thought that the tissues had collected so much of it already... On the plus side, BUHS is easily cured. By soap. I have lots of soap!
This is where I need to tell you that so much good has come out of this situation. I never realized how many people cared, or the caliber of my friends. I might be single, but I assure you, I am not alone!
After all, wasn't I posting about how "Bachelorette" is not a bad thing? Now I get to live what I write! Yay!
What it boils down to, and what I tell myself when I start getting teary over what could have been and how we lost what we had, is this: It doesn't matter. He made his choice.
He reasoned that I'd be strong enough to get past him, that I'd be incredible enough to make it through this.
I can't say that he's wrong...
Somewhere between crying my eyes out and screaming at the wall, I got it. All of it doesn't matter. He made a choice. I can't change it, beg it differently, or persuade. Nothing I do about this will make any difference-it's done. What I can do is be grateful for the time we had, for the discoveries he helped me make about myself, for the friends he introduced me to. I can enjoy my apartment, my dog, my son. I can spend hours at the library picking out books, and many more in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles while reading them. I can write without interruption, I can stop waiting for someone to get here, to call, to text, to love me. Fleece sheets? They're so on! And I slept like a baby last night in them...it was incredible!
I've never been single long enough to find my stride-I've always been looking for a family for my son. I'm missing the fact that I have provided my son with a great family! His father and I get along incredibly well, I watch my son's half sister on their days off of school, and we even have a pet that he calls his brother. He spends time with his Grandparents and cousins, sees his Aunts and Uncles regularly. We have a home that warm and lit and he has a friend that lives in the neighborhood that he plays with every day. If I can learn to appreciate it, this will be an incredible upbringing for my child!
So, dust off the laptop and start writing, not just blogging. I refuse to allow the loss of this great love to be in vain!
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