A little over a week ago, I was at a team huddle meeting at work. My boss was telling a story about the talent show/variety show at a local medical college for it's first graduating class. It is not so much of the talent show from elementary school, as most people who were performing were quite talented in their performing arts. It serves as a celebration beyond the sciences before the students have Match Day to find out their assignments for residency. My boss was briefly cluing people into the Match Day process, where the medical students go on interviews for residency and then the students and the hospital programs rank their preferences. All of this information is submitted into a computer program for the entire country and it does its computing and matches most all of the students to a program. Then on Match Day, each student's name is called and they are given an envelope to open and find out where they will go for residency. Match Day is in late March, and most students have about six weeks to finish classes and pack up and move for the next step. The talent show/variety show is an opportunity to take pause and celebrate before the mayhem begins and everyone goes their separate ways.
My boss was very impressed and touched by the talent show/variety show experience. As he was describing it, I found myself swept away by an emotional wave that took me back to a place I did not anticipating revisiting. My eyes started to get teary and I had to look away and not make eye contact with anyone in the room. All with that brief summary of Match Day, it took me back to the time when I was with A~ and going through that process. It felt like my past life was flashing in snippets before me, with the excitement, nervousness and wonder about what was going to be the next chapter in our lives together. I remember when he came home after the first round of interviews. He was bounding with a brightness of fantastic possibility that we did not realize was before us. Our initial expectation was that he was going to probably rank Pittsburgh or Cleveland as top choices. But when he came home and told me about some of the other programs and what they had to offer, I felt it was important to be open to those other choices. So, I went with him for other interviews and second looks to check out other cities and take it all into consideration. It was a beautiful time when A~ and I really worked as a team and he included me in his career choices because it was going to impact our life together. We were giddy with the new found adventure before us, and we were scared to let our parents down if we ended up in another city. We tried to buffer the news, but we were also cautious about sharing too much because we did not want them to try to convince us otherwise. This had to be our decision. It was a chance to see how we could make it as a couple, and it would push us to grow in ways we could not imagine.
And so I sat there with all of these warm, bubbling memories of a life past, a life now gone. As quickly as these moments surfaced, along came the crashing flood of sadness and grief. I thought back to my old self, feeling sad for her not knowing what was to come. How brave and trusting she was in her relationship with A~ and feeling like they were on the edge of something incredible. All of the sacrifice, the dreaming and the determination of really making it together with him...gone, all very gone. All of that work and planning and hope...all just so far away gone.
Was it all for nothing? Is it now meaningless? What was the point?
And there I sat, with my job... in a hospital... in Florida... in a place that my old self would have never imagined, especially not without him by my side. For a moment, I felt outside of my own body and I just felt so sad.
How long had it been?
Ten years.
Ten years ago this holiday season, I was out on the road traveling with him squeezing in interviews and second look visits while popping in to see our family for the holidays.
My life feels like it could be nothing further than what my old self would have or could have imagined. And now where am I? How was it that I came to work at a hospital? Is it weird or strange that my life has taken this path?
What will happen in the next ten years? How much will change? How much will I change? Will I be happy? Or will I be lost and waiting?
The emotional swells have been reverberating within me, as I try to find a place of balance, strength and acceptance of my current reality. I know I am in a place of transition once again. I just need to be patient. It is okay to grieve what was lost, honor it and put it down again.
Monday, December 31, 2012
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Broken Foot
Meh...
So, it seems this was a work in progress, maybe. I enjoy running. It is one of my favorite ways to release stress because I usually get to be physically active and be outside while doing it. Unfortunately, I started having pain in my foot around the end of April, beginning of May. I just wanted to make it through the Cleveland Half-Marathon.
Cleveland is my hometown and to have the opportunity to run in this race meant a lot. I remember sometime in middle school and hearing about the race and thinking what fun it would be to run in the city. When I found out how long the race was, I wasn't sure if that could be something I could do. In grade school, I was often the smallest and slowest runner in my class. If I was playing tag at recess, it was only a matter of time before I was "it." That usually meant that I was "it" for the remainder of the time because I couldn't catch anyone. After a while, others began to catch onto this pattern and found that it really wasn't fun to have me hopelessly chasing them around the playground. So then, mercilessly, someone would eventually volunteer to be "it" so that the kids could resume running at full speed and I could try to catch my breath...praying that someone would not say the chant (I cannot remember) that makes it so that everyone has to leave base.
Needless to say, it wasn't until I was an adult that I discovered the joys of running. I may not be fast, but I do enjoy it. So, I think I weakened my foot and tried to give it a rest over the summer. When I finally decided to go see my doctor about it, I got back into my car and my phone rang with the job offer for Orlando. I had the x-rays done in Pittsburgh and they did not show anything. During my moving into my new apartment, I tripped on a step and my foot just did not feel the same. I think that was when it was officially pushed over the edge. I had x-rays done and now the break was clearly visible.
Since September I have had a series of steps in trying to heal my foot. I started with an air cast and a knee scooter. The lady who completed the paperwork for me to rent the scooter at the store said something about, "Now that you are disabled..." That did not go over well. Me, disabled? No. I decided to make the most of it by installing a bicycle bell on it so at least I could bring some kind of humor to the situation. With the hospital being so new, I was quickly recognized as the girl on the scooter. At first, people thought it was a toy and part of my job as a Child Life Specialist. "Oh, you Child Life Specialists have all the fun toys! You are so fun...oh, wait. What's that on your foot? Oh, your foot's broken. Sorry!" I will say the scooter was better than crutches. I could pick up some real speed on the straight aways. Some people teased that I would get a speeding ticket. Others would say that I would miss the scooter because I would be so much slower. Not so much. As much time as I could save with going fast in a hallway here and there, I spent more time backing up and going back and forth to maneuver in and out of doorways and tight spaces. A time or two I got a little jammed and stuck trying to get out of the elevator that I felt like Austin Powers in the golf cart in the first movie.
Over time, I realized I was in a safe bubble at work and people were just used to it. Granted it made for a lot of extra conversation and inquires of how I was healing. But, it was well intended and I preferred to think of it as people cheering for me, even if it was somewhat tiresome having the same conversations about ten times per day. I usually had my canned answers, but tried to say it with a smile. Then it started happening at the Publix. The people who worked at the store began to recognize me and would strike up conversations with me about my progress and giving me well wishes. It was slightly invasive and I really didn't want to be drawing extra attention. Again, I took it as more people sending me good vibes for healing. Then, I went to the mall and there were a lot of people who openly stared at me. It made me feel uncomfortable. I suddenly appreciated my safe bubbles of work and the Publix.
I was also irked when people would ask me if I had a handicapped parking pass. What? No. I am not disabled...even if technically temporarily...I did not identify myself that way. It ticked me off when people would say that I should take full advantage of my situation with the parking thing or milking it for some other favor out of pity. NO! That was one reason why when there was one guy that I dated for a bit that I appreciated that he did not say those kind of things. He joked with me as was my way of coping, but he did not treat me any differently. And he was good at listening when I could be honest about my frustrations with it. (More on him in another post.)
After about a month, I started to transition off of the scooter and try walking more with the air cast. Sometimes it was strange and somewhat comforting when some people didn't even realize that I didn't have the scooter anymore because it had just become no big deal. The transition was giving me some hope. But, I still felt awkward and it was starting to wear on me. I found myself not wanting to go out in public for longer stretches where I might need the scooter. I was just so done with it and my mood was dark. I was getting into a funk. Being restricted in not being able to really exercise was not helping and starting to take its emotional toll.
Last week I was down graded to a "walking shoe," which looks like a sandal version of the walking cast. At least now I can swim laps in the pool, as long as I don't push off the wall. I went for a swim after an unseasonable cool spell. It felt great and really helped my mood. I look forward to doing more of it, as long as the weather cooperates. Fortunately, the pool for laps in my neighborhood is heated.
Supposedly, I'm moving in the right direction. As long as I can handle the progression to regular shoes and walking, I *might* get to try running in February. But, what totally stinks is that after all of this, the pain could come back to my foot and all of this could be for nothing. That is what I fear the most.
And as much as I am trying to stay positive, it is wearing on me. I miss wearing matching socks and shoes. I miss wearing my cute shoes. I haven't even been able to wear my Florida shoes yet! With the holidays coming and the New Year, I feel like I can't really get excited about dressing up all cute. I don't feeling like wearing a cute dress and then this aweful velcro sandal. Maybe I'll head to the beach for New Years. It's a good place for a flip flop.
So, it seems this was a work in progress, maybe. I enjoy running. It is one of my favorite ways to release stress because I usually get to be physically active and be outside while doing it. Unfortunately, I started having pain in my foot around the end of April, beginning of May. I just wanted to make it through the Cleveland Half-Marathon.
Cleveland is my hometown and to have the opportunity to run in this race meant a lot. I remember sometime in middle school and hearing about the race and thinking what fun it would be to run in the city. When I found out how long the race was, I wasn't sure if that could be something I could do. In grade school, I was often the smallest and slowest runner in my class. If I was playing tag at recess, it was only a matter of time before I was "it." That usually meant that I was "it" for the remainder of the time because I couldn't catch anyone. After a while, others began to catch onto this pattern and found that it really wasn't fun to have me hopelessly chasing them around the playground. So then, mercilessly, someone would eventually volunteer to be "it" so that the kids could resume running at full speed and I could try to catch my breath...praying that someone would not say the chant (I cannot remember) that makes it so that everyone has to leave base.
Needless to say, it wasn't until I was an adult that I discovered the joys of running. I may not be fast, but I do enjoy it. So, I think I weakened my foot and tried to give it a rest over the summer. When I finally decided to go see my doctor about it, I got back into my car and my phone rang with the job offer for Orlando. I had the x-rays done in Pittsburgh and they did not show anything. During my moving into my new apartment, I tripped on a step and my foot just did not feel the same. I think that was when it was officially pushed over the edge. I had x-rays done and now the break was clearly visible.
Since September I have had a series of steps in trying to heal my foot. I started with an air cast and a knee scooter. The lady who completed the paperwork for me to rent the scooter at the store said something about, "Now that you are disabled..." That did not go over well. Me, disabled? No. I decided to make the most of it by installing a bicycle bell on it so at least I could bring some kind of humor to the situation. With the hospital being so new, I was quickly recognized as the girl on the scooter. At first, people thought it was a toy and part of my job as a Child Life Specialist. "Oh, you Child Life Specialists have all the fun toys! You are so fun...oh, wait. What's that on your foot? Oh, your foot's broken. Sorry!" I will say the scooter was better than crutches. I could pick up some real speed on the straight aways. Some people teased that I would get a speeding ticket. Others would say that I would miss the scooter because I would be so much slower. Not so much. As much time as I could save with going fast in a hallway here and there, I spent more time backing up and going back and forth to maneuver in and out of doorways and tight spaces. A time or two I got a little jammed and stuck trying to get out of the elevator that I felt like Austin Powers in the golf cart in the first movie.
Over time, I realized I was in a safe bubble at work and people were just used to it. Granted it made for a lot of extra conversation and inquires of how I was healing. But, it was well intended and I preferred to think of it as people cheering for me, even if it was somewhat tiresome having the same conversations about ten times per day. I usually had my canned answers, but tried to say it with a smile. Then it started happening at the Publix. The people who worked at the store began to recognize me and would strike up conversations with me about my progress and giving me well wishes. It was slightly invasive and I really didn't want to be drawing extra attention. Again, I took it as more people sending me good vibes for healing. Then, I went to the mall and there were a lot of people who openly stared at me. It made me feel uncomfortable. I suddenly appreciated my safe bubbles of work and the Publix.
I was also irked when people would ask me if I had a handicapped parking pass. What? No. I am not disabled...even if technically temporarily...I did not identify myself that way. It ticked me off when people would say that I should take full advantage of my situation with the parking thing or milking it for some other favor out of pity. NO! That was one reason why when there was one guy that I dated for a bit that I appreciated that he did not say those kind of things. He joked with me as was my way of coping, but he did not treat me any differently. And he was good at listening when I could be honest about my frustrations with it. (More on him in another post.)
After about a month, I started to transition off of the scooter and try walking more with the air cast. Sometimes it was strange and somewhat comforting when some people didn't even realize that I didn't have the scooter anymore because it had just become no big deal. The transition was giving me some hope. But, I still felt awkward and it was starting to wear on me. I found myself not wanting to go out in public for longer stretches where I might need the scooter. I was just so done with it and my mood was dark. I was getting into a funk. Being restricted in not being able to really exercise was not helping and starting to take its emotional toll.
Last week I was down graded to a "walking shoe," which looks like a sandal version of the walking cast. At least now I can swim laps in the pool, as long as I don't push off the wall. I went for a swim after an unseasonable cool spell. It felt great and really helped my mood. I look forward to doing more of it, as long as the weather cooperates. Fortunately, the pool for laps in my neighborhood is heated.
Supposedly, I'm moving in the right direction. As long as I can handle the progression to regular shoes and walking, I *might* get to try running in February. But, what totally stinks is that after all of this, the pain could come back to my foot and all of this could be for nothing. That is what I fear the most.
And as much as I am trying to stay positive, it is wearing on me. I miss wearing matching socks and shoes. I miss wearing my cute shoes. I haven't even been able to wear my Florida shoes yet! With the holidays coming and the New Year, I feel like I can't really get excited about dressing up all cute. I don't feeling like wearing a cute dress and then this aweful velcro sandal. Maybe I'll head to the beach for New Years. It's a good place for a flip flop.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
A Text
RJ sent me a text last weekend. He congratulated me with the Browns beating the Steelers. Then, he said that he hoped I was doing well in Orlando.
I don't think his text is fair. Sure, he may have been reaching out to let me know he was thinking about me. Good for well wishes. But, it hurts, even if confirming that I had some significance in his life. Just let me be.
I didn't respond to the text.
Instead, I decided to write him a letter through email this weekend. I took it as an opening for me to kind of respond to the note he had written in his card over the summer, the last of the processed thoughts that I had upon settling in Orlando and when the numbness wore off. I thought about hand writing the note, but I wanted to include some links to a song...music speaks to him. That, and I just didn't feel like giving him any more of myself than I needed...my handwriting, my touch on the page.
I'm not going to post the letter, as some of it is more personal than I care to share in my blog. Also, some of it touches on reflections I have already said. My letter was my last attempt to say whatever was left unsaid that I wished I had been braver and more aware to say in the moment when I left Pittsburgh.
However, the excerpt below touches on an important conversation I had with my aunt. And I want to remember her words.
Shortly after moving to Orlando, I had an interesting conversation with one of my aunts. We were just talking about relationships in general and some of her words resonated with me. When couples seem to come to that place of having to make life choices, it seems sometimes it may be between the relationship or career. She said neither is right or wrong, they just are. They will take you on different paths of happiness and fulfillment.
There were times I thought that maybe RJ ended the relationship with me because he was afraid or unable to be trusting in us for things to work for the long-term. Or, it could be what he said in that there was something missing for him. It doesn't matter because it is done and over.
I am moving forward and letting go more each day. The holidays make it a bit tricky sometimes. And his text does not help, pulling me back. If he contacts me again, I may just have to say no more. I think I am at a place where I am okay with that, which is the important part.
I don't think his text is fair. Sure, he may have been reaching out to let me know he was thinking about me. Good for well wishes. But, it hurts, even if confirming that I had some significance in his life. Just let me be.
I didn't respond to the text.
Instead, I decided to write him a letter through email this weekend. I took it as an opening for me to kind of respond to the note he had written in his card over the summer, the last of the processed thoughts that I had upon settling in Orlando and when the numbness wore off. I thought about hand writing the note, but I wanted to include some links to a song...music speaks to him. That, and I just didn't feel like giving him any more of myself than I needed...my handwriting, my touch on the page.
I'm not going to post the letter, as some of it is more personal than I care to share in my blog. Also, some of it touches on reflections I have already said. My letter was my last attempt to say whatever was left unsaid that I wished I had been braver and more aware to say in the moment when I left Pittsburgh.
However, the excerpt below touches on an important conversation I had with my aunt. And I want to remember her words.
Shortly after moving to Orlando, I had an interesting conversation with one of my aunts. We were just talking about relationships in general and some of her words resonated with me. When couples seem to come to that place of having to make life choices, it seems sometimes it may be between the relationship or career. She said neither is right or wrong, they just are. They will take you on different paths of happiness and fulfillment.
There were times I thought that maybe RJ ended the relationship with me because he was afraid or unable to be trusting in us for things to work for the long-term. Or, it could be what he said in that there was something missing for him. It doesn't matter because it is done and over.
I am moving forward and letting go more each day. The holidays make it a bit tricky sometimes. And his text does not help, pulling me back. If he contacts me again, I may just have to say no more. I think I am at a place where I am okay with that, which is the important part.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Turkey Day Thoughts
While it is still Thanksgiving weekend, I want to remember to quickly get down some thoughts while they are fresh in my mind. So much has been happening in such a short amount of time that I am not getting to all of the posts that I have floating along in my head.
- I am thankful for my new job and I am loving it! Even with not being a morning person, I find myself happy and looking forward to the day when I get up around 5:15 am. My spirits are usually high as I jam along with my early commute watching the sun start to come up.
- I am thankful for family and friends who love me. Emails, texts and phone calls carry with me as I often wonder how everyone is doing. My thoughts and prayers are with you all for health, peace and happiness.
- I am thankful for the new friends that I am making in Orlando. I am starting to make connections here and it is helping me to settle into my new home. Just want to keep going with the exploring and adventures that come my way.
- I am thankful for this new chapter in my life. Moving to Orlando has given me a fresh start and a new perspective. I feel more open and free than I have in a long time. I am hopeful for what is on the horizon as I try to remember to take it one day at a time and live in the present.
- I am thankful for healing space. It takes a lot of strength to let go and I imagine myself more and more on the side of freedom. My past will always be part of who I am, but there is more focus on the present in who I am now.
- I am thankful for my family in Florida and having the opportunity to spend my first Thanksgiving in Orlando with them. Of course I missed my parents, brother, sister and cousins this year. But this holiday was I think the first that my heart did not hurt for a longing of a life I so desire to have. I needed that. Even with other holidays being better since my divorce, there has always been that little stab of emotional pain that crept into my heart. A friend of mine suggested that I spend a holiday doing something totally different. Part of me wished I took her up on that offer a few years ago, but I think I got to experience some of that relief this holiday. There are times I feel sad with lost dreams, not being able to provide my parents with grandchildren, and a longing to share a life with a love. Thank you to my cousins for being so welcoming. It was a lovely day. And it was funny because my cousin's mother-in-law makes homemade stuffing very similar to my mom's. So in some ways, my Cleveland Thanksgiving was not too far off from the Thanksgiving table in Florida. My mom's stuffing is better. But, this was a good close second.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Clues of Moving On
To help me validate the closure and end space between me and my most recent significant past relationship:
- Find myself sleeping in the middle of my bed.
- Feeling less angry and frustrated with it ending. Moving towards acceptance.
- Having no interest in lurking on his fb page.
- Fewer instances of seeing things that remind me of him. (Moving certainly helped. But surprisingly, initially there was more around than I thought that reminded me of him.)
- Wanting to purge and clean out my closet. I kind of started that before the move, but still find myself doing that a bit more. It's kind of like shedding an old skin or old self.
- Reflecting on what I learned from the relationship. Appreciating what was good about it and what I can apply going forward.
- Find myself shopping and eyeing up cute dresses and tops with thoughts of, "That would be cute for a date." I'm kind of in a reinventing phase.
- Going on dates. :)
- Adding more music to my current collection. Always looking for good music, but it tends to increase when I'm looking for some good pick me ups to get pumped about the next adventure.
- Looking to do something new with my hair. I trimmed my bangs a little different and I have been trying to grow it out a little more. I'm thinking the new bangs go better with the length that I would like to grow it.
- Noticing men and picking up more on the vibe when there might be a little something there worth investigating.
- Going on a date and not comparing him to what I had with RJ.
- Feeling more free and excited to explore my new home and people around me.
- Being fully in the moment with a man and noticing and enjoying what is special about him.
- Seeking connection, engagement and satisfaction in my work, play and daily activities.
- Allowing myself to dream, considering new possibilities and itching to travel.
- Generally feeling happier and at peace within myself.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Some Books Are Better on the Shelf
So, my sister sent me this link to Darwin Deez's Bad Day a bit ago when I was in the throws in feeling angry about my most recent relationship ending. While I am sometimes uncomfortable with being angry with a person who has left me in a relationship, it still surprises me how much others can feel angry for me. It kind of comes as a relief in being angry myself. It's normal. It's okay.
So the song starts with, "I hope that the last page of your 800-page novel is missing."
No, sometimes actually finishing a book can be downright disappointing, too.
The book that had been on my shelf for several years that I bought as a vacation beach read is called Holy Cow by Sarah Macdonald. It is an autobiography of sorts where a woman in her thirties from Australia revisits India for a gamble on love and takes a spiritual journey. This helps her to make sense of the world, to figure out what is truly important and to learn more about herself.
It caught my eye while walking around the book store. Funny thing is that I started reading it on a beach vacation the summer before A~ and I were just starting to try to conceive a baby. The first chapter or so was good, but I was distracted with wanting to read Harry Potter, too. Harry Potter won.
The vacation ended and the book returned to my shelf. There it sat, replaced with reading material about infertility, mending relationships and soon grad school required reading. I wanted to read it. But after the fallout of my divorce, I hesitated because it reminded me of the last happy vacation I had with him.
Next I began my relationship with RJ, and I didn't feel like tainting my happy thoughts with sad thoughts of reminders of my past relationship. I was trying to move forward. Plus, I was still busy with grad school readings.
Then when RJ ended the relationship and grad school was done, I felt that I had no more excuses. I wanted to read the book to be done with it. Maybe it would surprise me or maybe I could justify getting rid of it because giving away a book I purchased and hadn't read seemed like such a waste. It became my book to read on the bus going to and from my summer internship job. Perfect!
As I read the book, it was interesting to read how the main character had to learn how to let go of so much. She faced herself and her broken preconceived notions about life. She embraced life as it was and found the good in people. She changed her perception. The people and places had not changed, but she changed the lens that she viewed them. She found a certain peace, acceptance and happiness. It also touched on the importance of balance in a relationship and not to lose oneself--having personal grounding and independence while flexibly creating a life together with someone else.
Sounds good right?
(Spoiler Alert)
As I was reading the second to the last paragraph of the book, the author tidies up by writing about what she has learned from each religious group she meaningfully encountered in India. She reflects on what she learned before returning home. Good, strong woman stuff.
Then, the very last paragraph washes it all away.
Basically, the author goes onto say that all of that stuff really doesn't matter because she is with child that she and her husband conceived before leaving India (mean while most of the story is spent with the couple spending nearly all of their time apart because of his job assignment). The baby is special because it will remind her of the sacrifices and growth during her two years of life in India, but that having a baby is where the real meaning in life can be found.
So, diluted enlightenment and I'm better than you because I can get knocked up by my husband.
I closed the book with disappointment. Really? The last paragraph did not seem relevant to the story. They were never trying to have a kid. What happened to the personal grounding and finding happiness and contentment within yourself? What happened to realizing that a relationship is fragile and when one person's career dominates the relationship, it can hurt it when it is at the expense of that relationship? What happened to two people who realize that their life together is more important than if they have career success without that special person to share it? Fine that the baby will remind you of your time in India and that the conception was special. But, to imply that the spiritual journey didn't really matter because being a mother supersedes it? Really?
Then, I think back to all of the times that I started reading the book or picked it up and thought about reading it. It would have been far worse timing. It may have been chucked into the ocean.
This is not helping me to be okay with being in the temporary* space of not having a baby at the moment.
(*Working on being happy and while being open to find a man first, while holding onto hope for possibility.)
Feel free to make book recommendations. I could use them. I live by a pool.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
The Space Between 35 and 42
Lately...I've been thinking about what it means to be turning 35 and searching for some kind of grounding in where I am in life, or rather trying to make a space to be comfortable in accepting and celebrating this new chapter in my life.
I find it difficult to find the balance of being happy with being a single, childless woman with a challenging, fulfilling career path and not becoming consumed with wanting to be a mother that I lose sight of the wonderful I have in my life in the present. I do not want to have those thoughts of hoped motherhood looming in my mind that I miss out on capturing and living in the moment now.
To lay this out now--I want to be in a committed, loving relationship, which I see as being married, to a man whom I want to spend the rest of my life. And a child is a blessing and an experience that I want and hope to share with someone together. A baby is not a requirement for happiness or satisfaction in that hoped life. I am looking for someone who is open to the possibility and desire to have children. I feel confident that I will find that man--someday sooner rather than later, I hope. Part of my fear is that I will not find him before the window closes...before my physical body says no more, even if my heart still says yes.
What's with 42? Well, that seems to be the number that keeps popping up in my mind of when I think the window may close for me. It used to be 38, but I've expanded it. It could be longer and could change, I don't know. I would hope that my kid would graduate high school before I reached retirement age. That could push it to 46. But, 46 seems so old to be pregnant for the first time. Forty-two seems to hedge on the possibility that there could still be some good eggs in there and that I could physically handle it, maybe. Forty-two seems more friendly to defy the odds in some weird way. I don't know. Totally know it is not a rational thought process, but there it is--the current barometer on my inner timeline.
And please do not throw out the instant band-aid, "You can always adopt!" I started down that road once before and I know it is not that simple. I've already had a touch of that feeling like a pound puppy and feeling judged by others to decide if I'm good enough to be a mother. I don't even want to get into the manipulation of some that make you feel guilty that you question your level of comfort in how much you are willing to take on in caring for a child that may be atypical in health or development, among other factors. It is not just a decision about you, there is also a great deal of thought of how it may impact the child. It is not an easy process and it becomes more complicated the older that you get because young parents are so desired. It is not to say that it doesn't happen; it thankfully and rightfully does. I may be open to adoption in the future, but there are so many factors that go into that decision process. Again, it needs to be inclusive of what is best for me and my hoped partner.
So yes, I do feel there is plenty of time to meet and connect with the man who I dream of sharing a life. There is a larger and more generous timeline for that to happen. What is not so forgiving is the time that my body has left to have a baby of my own--my own flesh and blood--my eyes, my hair or my freckles--my love of books, my playful spirit or my feeling at home with nature, art and football. And all of those kinds of things found in my partner, but mushed in combination with me into one little being.
Part of me feels that if I become too comfortable and caught up in this single life that I may accidentally push away the chance of being a mother. It's like if I "forget" about it, it may not happen. Will the universe forget that dream deep within me? If by living in the moment and not constantly hoping for a child, will the higher power think that having a child is no longer important to me?
Part of me worries that if I keep worrying about it not happening, that it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy and will not happen. I am afraid of the disappointment that may not come. I want to be hopeful and believe. But, what if I am setting myself up for more heartache if it doesn't happen?
I feel caught between quietly hoping, but not hoping too much or not enough, and keeping the fears at bay of it not happening, or worse hoping and believing and it not happening and then being crushed. I know this is the worst constructed sentence ever. But, I don't know how else to write all of what I am feeling at the same time. My thoughts and feelings on motherhood for myself all are a jumbled blob, just like that sentence. My chest feels tight and the tears silently roll down my cheeks wrapping my brain around all of my thoughts and feelings.
And somehow I have to release the fears, find the courage to believe and get back to living my life as it is in the present--not just getting by, but living a full, happy and content life now. I know that responsibility resides in me; it is just remembering to do it. Perhaps focusing on being thankful for what I do have will help me to seize the most that life has to offer me.
As a good friend said to me a few years ago...when one door closes, another one opens. Maybe all of what I have been through is to make room for something more than I could ever imagine. After A~, I felt I found that with RJ, but it did not last. So, I hold onto hope that there is something even better and that my time will not run out.
I find it difficult to find the balance of being happy with being a single, childless woman with a challenging, fulfilling career path and not becoming consumed with wanting to be a mother that I lose sight of the wonderful I have in my life in the present. I do not want to have those thoughts of hoped motherhood looming in my mind that I miss out on capturing and living in the moment now.
To lay this out now--I want to be in a committed, loving relationship, which I see as being married, to a man whom I want to spend the rest of my life. And a child is a blessing and an experience that I want and hope to share with someone together. A baby is not a requirement for happiness or satisfaction in that hoped life. I am looking for someone who is open to the possibility and desire to have children. I feel confident that I will find that man--someday sooner rather than later, I hope. Part of my fear is that I will not find him before the window closes...before my physical body says no more, even if my heart still says yes.
What's with 42? Well, that seems to be the number that keeps popping up in my mind of when I think the window may close for me. It used to be 38, but I've expanded it. It could be longer and could change, I don't know. I would hope that my kid would graduate high school before I reached retirement age. That could push it to 46. But, 46 seems so old to be pregnant for the first time. Forty-two seems to hedge on the possibility that there could still be some good eggs in there and that I could physically handle it, maybe. Forty-two seems more friendly to defy the odds in some weird way. I don't know. Totally know it is not a rational thought process, but there it is--the current barometer on my inner timeline.
And please do not throw out the instant band-aid, "You can always adopt!" I started down that road once before and I know it is not that simple. I've already had a touch of that feeling like a pound puppy and feeling judged by others to decide if I'm good enough to be a mother. I don't even want to get into the manipulation of some that make you feel guilty that you question your level of comfort in how much you are willing to take on in caring for a child that may be atypical in health or development, among other factors. It is not just a decision about you, there is also a great deal of thought of how it may impact the child. It is not an easy process and it becomes more complicated the older that you get because young parents are so desired. It is not to say that it doesn't happen; it thankfully and rightfully does. I may be open to adoption in the future, but there are so many factors that go into that decision process. Again, it needs to be inclusive of what is best for me and my hoped partner.
So yes, I do feel there is plenty of time to meet and connect with the man who I dream of sharing a life. There is a larger and more generous timeline for that to happen. What is not so forgiving is the time that my body has left to have a baby of my own--my own flesh and blood--my eyes, my hair or my freckles--my love of books, my playful spirit or my feeling at home with nature, art and football. And all of those kinds of things found in my partner, but mushed in combination with me into one little being.
Part of me feels that if I become too comfortable and caught up in this single life that I may accidentally push away the chance of being a mother. It's like if I "forget" about it, it may not happen. Will the universe forget that dream deep within me? If by living in the moment and not constantly hoping for a child, will the higher power think that having a child is no longer important to me?
Part of me worries that if I keep worrying about it not happening, that it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy and will not happen. I am afraid of the disappointment that may not come. I want to be hopeful and believe. But, what if I am setting myself up for more heartache if it doesn't happen?
I feel caught between quietly hoping, but not hoping too much or not enough, and keeping the fears at bay of it not happening, or worse hoping and believing and it not happening and then being crushed. I know this is the worst constructed sentence ever. But, I don't know how else to write all of what I am feeling at the same time. My thoughts and feelings on motherhood for myself all are a jumbled blob, just like that sentence. My chest feels tight and the tears silently roll down my cheeks wrapping my brain around all of my thoughts and feelings.
And somehow I have to release the fears, find the courage to believe and get back to living my life as it is in the present--not just getting by, but living a full, happy and content life now. I know that responsibility resides in me; it is just remembering to do it. Perhaps focusing on being thankful for what I do have will help me to seize the most that life has to offer me.
As a good friend said to me a few years ago...when one door closes, another one opens. Maybe all of what I have been through is to make room for something more than I could ever imagine. After A~, I felt I found that with RJ, but it did not last. So, I hold onto hope that there is something even better and that my time will not run out.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Today WAS Better
I know my last post was down right depressing. It was raw and felt so good once I hit publish. Sometimes I think the anticipation of something can be almost worse than the actual thing. I had been trying so hard not to let myself get so upset, to not go near what I was really thinking and to try to be brave. Sometimes I am just so tired of feeling all of those feelings or knowing that they are just waiting to spill over.
But, today was a better day. I had a presentation to give this afternoon at work (my very first!), so I think that helped to focus my mind elsewhere and keep me distracted. And when I was done, it felt really good. I was proud of myself. After I thanked the group for participating and sharing their stories, they sang happy birthday to me.
It was a good day because I got to enjoy the extra pumpkin chip cookies that I made for my presentation. Yesterday, a new friend made me birthday dinner. I was surrounded with love from family and friends with birthday wishes with cards, texts, facebook messages and phone calls. My mom sent me a birthday present in the mail with my usual and favorite birthday gift--a new fall sweater (a light one since I am in Florida now). I am blessed to have so many people who care about me and want good things for me in my life. And my heart is with them, too, wanting nothing but the very best for them.
I know this post is cheesy. But sometimes it is important to recognize the good--especially when you are more ready to embrace it again. Hopefully, each day gets better.
But, today was a better day. I had a presentation to give this afternoon at work (my very first!), so I think that helped to focus my mind elsewhere and keep me distracted. And when I was done, it felt really good. I was proud of myself. After I thanked the group for participating and sharing their stories, they sang happy birthday to me.
It was a good day because I got to enjoy the extra pumpkin chip cookies that I made for my presentation. Yesterday, a new friend made me birthday dinner. I was surrounded with love from family and friends with birthday wishes with cards, texts, facebook messages and phone calls. My mom sent me a birthday present in the mail with my usual and favorite birthday gift--a new fall sweater (a light one since I am in Florida now). I am blessed to have so many people who care about me and want good things for me in my life. And my heart is with them, too, wanting nothing but the very best for them.
I know this post is cheesy. But sometimes it is important to recognize the good--especially when you are more ready to embrace it again. Hopefully, each day gets better.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Unhappy Birthday
Turning 34 was really difficult for me. Turning 35 this year is even harder. This is not where I thought my life would be. Yes, I know it is better to be thankful for what you do have in your life and to focus on the blessings and the positives. But I am tired of being strong and I just want to sulk in my misery for a bit. Kind of need to hit that bottom (again) and try to get it out of my system before coming up again. Sometimes I just need to cry. If I had my way, I'd just stay in bed all day tomorrow and just wait it out to end. I just don't feel like being around anyone.
It was hard enough being married and turning 30 and not having had a child. Now I am 35, divorced, single and in no place to be entering a new relationship--and nowhere near considering having a child because if I'm going to have a child, I want that to be a shared experience with someone I love. I'm just such a mess. While I do feel like I am making more headway towards finding closure with the end of my relationship with RJ and forgiveness with A~, I just feel so lost in the loss of my dreams. My heart aches and hurts so much, to have a desire to give so much love and to have no direction to give it.
Turning 35 feels like the window is not far off from closing. I know there is still time and I am trying really hard not to hang all of my happiness on a relationship or a child. But today, it is really hard. So, I am just going to give myself permission to feel sad and cry every tear that I need today. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.
I am trying really hard to hang onto hope that I will find a man to share love and a life together. My next step is to build up the courage, faith and trust to believe that it will happen. As much as it almost hurts to breathe right now and that I'm drowning in my own sorrow, I will come to the surface--hopefully sooner rather than later. What gives me hope is knowing several women in my life who have found love later in life and have received many bountiful blessings. Please, God, let my turn come.
It was hard enough being married and turning 30 and not having had a child. Now I am 35, divorced, single and in no place to be entering a new relationship--and nowhere near considering having a child because if I'm going to have a child, I want that to be a shared experience with someone I love. I'm just such a mess. While I do feel like I am making more headway towards finding closure with the end of my relationship with RJ and forgiveness with A~, I just feel so lost in the loss of my dreams. My heart aches and hurts so much, to have a desire to give so much love and to have no direction to give it.
Turning 35 feels like the window is not far off from closing. I know there is still time and I am trying really hard not to hang all of my happiness on a relationship or a child. But today, it is really hard. So, I am just going to give myself permission to feel sad and cry every tear that I need today. Hopefully, tomorrow will be better.
I am trying really hard to hang onto hope that I will find a man to share love and a life together. My next step is to build up the courage, faith and trust to believe that it will happen. As much as it almost hurts to breathe right now and that I'm drowning in my own sorrow, I will come to the surface--hopefully sooner rather than later. What gives me hope is knowing several women in my life who have found love later in life and have received many bountiful blessings. Please, God, let my turn come.
Monday, August 27, 2012
I Have to Let Go
Ugh, I have been ruminating since my last encounter with RJ and the note in the card he gave to me. He told me to wait to read it, probably so that he wouldn't have to deal with whatever fallout of emotions that may have come with it. I still don't know what to make of the time we spent in the coffee shop just before I drove out of town. I am sad and angry and relieved and disappointed.
A friend came to visit me the evening before I left Pittsburgh to give me a gift and note. It was very sweet, but what meant more to me was that she was checking in on how I was feeling. Her visit was so well timed. I just came home from dinner with another dear friend and my emotions were running high and brimming at the surface. I didn't know what to do with them. She asked me how I was feeling, and she was just so supportive and sweet. I told her how I was both excited and scared, thankful for the opportunity that was ahead and knowing that I will miss my friends in Pittsburgh.
My friend asked me if I had seen RJ. I told her no. She asked if I was planning on seeing him or if I wanted to see him. This was a conversation that I had with two other friends and I felt lost in trying to figure out what to do. I told her that I felt like he was hurt by my news of moving to Florida. It was a lot for me to take in and I still hadn't processed it all. Perhaps if we had more time, if we had another month, then it would have been easier. She asked me what I wanted. I told her that I did want to see RJ again before I left, but that I didn't know what I would say to him. I wouldn't want to meet with him and have it be yucky with mixed emotions and end poorly, especially since our last encounters had gone relatively well. Again, I just felt like I would just be sitting there and not knowing what to say. My friend said there was my answer. If I didn't have anything to say to him, that was okay. We hugged and I so appreciated her asking. RJ meant so much to me. I knew it would be difficult to leave Pittsburgh having lost someone in my life who I loved and thought was a great match. I felt better about not trying to force a moment and just letting things be.
Then RJ called me the next day just as the last of my stuff was being loaded onto the truck. He asked me when I was leaving and I told him as soon as everything was packed up. He seemed surprised. I guess I figured he was calling to see if it all fit and that he could officially let someone move into the apartment. Instead, RJ asked if we could meet. He was smart in realizing that coming to the apartment with my family there would not be a good idea. I suggested that we meet somewhere like a coffee shop and he liked that idea. I think his surprise was in that he called just in time and he almost missed the window of opportunity by ten minutes.
I was glad that RJ called me for one last visit before I left Pittsburgh. I did not want to be the one to ask. We met at Starbucks. RJ was sitting at a small round table by the window by the street. The sun washed over him with a blend of natural light and shadows within the shop that lent a familiar feel. It felt like home. It was reminiscent of his home without actually being in the space. The last time I was there was to clear out my belongings. His hair was just the right amount of messy. I paused and stood from a slight distance as he was writing in the card. He looked up and I asked him if he needed me to walk around the block to give him a minute to finish. He said no and scribbled the last of his words and sealed the envelope. RJ gave me the card as I sat down, but told me to open it later. He asked me if I wanted some tea and then got it for me.
When RJ returned, he seemed to have trouble looking at me and faced his body slightly away from me. I had to laugh a bit to myself because he was looking at me puzzled as I saw the wheels turning when he commented that there was something different about me. Wait for it...wait for it... RJ finally said that he thought my hair looked a little different. It is funny how guys can get so thrown by that kind of change. It's like they know something is different, but scramble to figure it out. Part of me was pleased because it seemed to mark distance and time apart from when we were together. It was almost a statement from me that I was moving on with my life. But that is somewhat of a front that I keep telling myself so that maybe I'll believe it, too. Then, I looked at RJ and noticed what was different about him. He looked like he had gained weight. It made me feel sad. There was no satisfaction in it. Sometimes people seem to make unflattering comments if their ex gains weight like it kind of makes them feel better, but it just made me feel sad. I felt sad because it probably meant that he wasn't fully taking care of himself.
RJ carried most of the conversation, and he seemed to boast of his success. I wasn't sure if he was sharing because he felt like it was a safe time to do so because I now finally had a job and he wouldn't be rubbing it in or if he was over compensating in that we both have good things in our lives to be happy about. It was almost like he was trying to say it is all okay because if we each had good things in our careers, then somehow it would be easier to walk away. RJ was more attractive when he had less. And I felt he was missing the point. In trying to make it seem like it all worked out for each of us separately, it felt like he was trying to indirectly justify himself for breaking up with me. I felt like he was trying to make himself feel better, and sort of trying to make me feel better. When he mentioned his parents and how much they wondered about me and how I was doing, I wanted to gouge out my eyeballs. These were the people who told their son that they thought he should break up with me, and he did. I wanted to tell him off. I was frustrated that he could not have the faith to stay strong in our separate times of struggle so that we could share together in the good times ahead. I didn't feel like celebrating our separate good fortunes.
But I tried to keep an open mind and take in what was most likely my last time with him. As he continued, I kind of started tuning him out in what he was saying. We both seemed to relax a bit and faced each other and made more eye contact. I noticed RJ's bare neck--the shape and contours of the muscles and smoothness of his skin compared to his stubble on his face. Again, his unshaven face was just the right amount. Looking at his neck I thought of the times when I snuggled up to him and could smell his cologne or when I was close to him and would kiss his neck as we made love. The sunlight in the coffee shop was just as it was in his bedroom. I missed that cozy space that felt like was a world of our own. Fleeting thoughts of memories missed passed in my mind. But this was not the RJ that I met and fell in love as time has a way making change or revealing things you did not see before the present.
At one point, our time seemed to edge on emotional. RJ had been doing most of the talking. So, I thanked him for asking me to get together because I wanted to see him, but I just didn't know what to say. I still didn't know what to say. RJ got a little glossy eyed and changed the subject, noting that he didn't want to cry in public. I later realized that I had been feeling rather numb, but trying to grasp at my emotions just below the surface. I wanted to be more in touch with my emotions at that moment, but it was too soon.
When we finished our drinks, RJ offered to walk me to the corner. It was odd to walk with him down the sidewalk to the corner that we parted on so many other occasions, once with a memorable kiss. We hugged, but it felt partly rushed and empty--not allowing room for the emotions to come to the surface. I turned to go my way and tried not to look back, pretty certain that he would not be looking back at me. As I began to jaywalk and cross the street, I looked over my shoulder for traffic and noticed RJ had done the same on his side of the street. Without realizing it, we were mirroring each other's footsteps and it broke my heart. So very close, so very close to finding real love. It makes me feel so sad that he could not see it, that he could not be strong enough and that I could not be brave enough.
I waited to open RJ's card until I had a quiet moment to myself. I was worried about what he wrote inside wondering if there would be some awful twist. But RJ's card and note were of sentiments of wishing me well. His handwriting was more controlled and consistent, seeming reflective of him getting more of his life together. He seemed to want to do the right thing, but by doing so, only made it hurt more. He said how special I am and that he wishes for all the happiness for me. His words are almost unfair. It made me feel like I was not good enough for him in someway. If I was so very special, why did he let me go? Why could he not pull it together when we were couple? How was it that he just didn't feel that it fit with me when I felt it with him?
Why?
That is the question that looms and haunts me. I have to find a way to let him go. I have to find a way to let go of all of the disappointment of what could have been. It troubles me because it shakes my confidence within myself to trust what is real or what is made up. I thought what we had was worth holding onto. How could I have been so wrong? How will I be able to tell the truth in the future?
But maybe this is what I needed. Maybe I needed this moment to realize that RJ did not fully appreciate me or the unconditional love that I had for him. He did not see the building strength in me that opened me up to love him even more. RJ needs to grow up, make his own decisions in life and let go of his past hurts because it sets limits. I saw some of my obstacles and did my emotional homework of confronting them to be able to move through them. Freedom and strength are on the other side of forgiveness. That is mine to keep. I deserve someone who appreciates me, all of me without trying to change me, and is not so willing to let me go while keeping appropriate emotional boundaries as two separate people who come together to share a life together.
A friend came to visit me the evening before I left Pittsburgh to give me a gift and note. It was very sweet, but what meant more to me was that she was checking in on how I was feeling. Her visit was so well timed. I just came home from dinner with another dear friend and my emotions were running high and brimming at the surface. I didn't know what to do with them. She asked me how I was feeling, and she was just so supportive and sweet. I told her how I was both excited and scared, thankful for the opportunity that was ahead and knowing that I will miss my friends in Pittsburgh.
My friend asked me if I had seen RJ. I told her no. She asked if I was planning on seeing him or if I wanted to see him. This was a conversation that I had with two other friends and I felt lost in trying to figure out what to do. I told her that I felt like he was hurt by my news of moving to Florida. It was a lot for me to take in and I still hadn't processed it all. Perhaps if we had more time, if we had another month, then it would have been easier. She asked me what I wanted. I told her that I did want to see RJ again before I left, but that I didn't know what I would say to him. I wouldn't want to meet with him and have it be yucky with mixed emotions and end poorly, especially since our last encounters had gone relatively well. Again, I just felt like I would just be sitting there and not knowing what to say. My friend said there was my answer. If I didn't have anything to say to him, that was okay. We hugged and I so appreciated her asking. RJ meant so much to me. I knew it would be difficult to leave Pittsburgh having lost someone in my life who I loved and thought was a great match. I felt better about not trying to force a moment and just letting things be.
Then RJ called me the next day just as the last of my stuff was being loaded onto the truck. He asked me when I was leaving and I told him as soon as everything was packed up. He seemed surprised. I guess I figured he was calling to see if it all fit and that he could officially let someone move into the apartment. Instead, RJ asked if we could meet. He was smart in realizing that coming to the apartment with my family there would not be a good idea. I suggested that we meet somewhere like a coffee shop and he liked that idea. I think his surprise was in that he called just in time and he almost missed the window of opportunity by ten minutes.
I was glad that RJ called me for one last visit before I left Pittsburgh. I did not want to be the one to ask. We met at Starbucks. RJ was sitting at a small round table by the window by the street. The sun washed over him with a blend of natural light and shadows within the shop that lent a familiar feel. It felt like home. It was reminiscent of his home without actually being in the space. The last time I was there was to clear out my belongings. His hair was just the right amount of messy. I paused and stood from a slight distance as he was writing in the card. He looked up and I asked him if he needed me to walk around the block to give him a minute to finish. He said no and scribbled the last of his words and sealed the envelope. RJ gave me the card as I sat down, but told me to open it later. He asked me if I wanted some tea and then got it for me.
When RJ returned, he seemed to have trouble looking at me and faced his body slightly away from me. I had to laugh a bit to myself because he was looking at me puzzled as I saw the wheels turning when he commented that there was something different about me. Wait for it...wait for it... RJ finally said that he thought my hair looked a little different. It is funny how guys can get so thrown by that kind of change. It's like they know something is different, but scramble to figure it out. Part of me was pleased because it seemed to mark distance and time apart from when we were together. It was almost a statement from me that I was moving on with my life. But that is somewhat of a front that I keep telling myself so that maybe I'll believe it, too. Then, I looked at RJ and noticed what was different about him. He looked like he had gained weight. It made me feel sad. There was no satisfaction in it. Sometimes people seem to make unflattering comments if their ex gains weight like it kind of makes them feel better, but it just made me feel sad. I felt sad because it probably meant that he wasn't fully taking care of himself.
RJ carried most of the conversation, and he seemed to boast of his success. I wasn't sure if he was sharing because he felt like it was a safe time to do so because I now finally had a job and he wouldn't be rubbing it in or if he was over compensating in that we both have good things in our lives to be happy about. It was almost like he was trying to say it is all okay because if we each had good things in our careers, then somehow it would be easier to walk away. RJ was more attractive when he had less. And I felt he was missing the point. In trying to make it seem like it all worked out for each of us separately, it felt like he was trying to indirectly justify himself for breaking up with me. I felt like he was trying to make himself feel better, and sort of trying to make me feel better. When he mentioned his parents and how much they wondered about me and how I was doing, I wanted to gouge out my eyeballs. These were the people who told their son that they thought he should break up with me, and he did. I wanted to tell him off. I was frustrated that he could not have the faith to stay strong in our separate times of struggle so that we could share together in the good times ahead. I didn't feel like celebrating our separate good fortunes.
But I tried to keep an open mind and take in what was most likely my last time with him. As he continued, I kind of started tuning him out in what he was saying. We both seemed to relax a bit and faced each other and made more eye contact. I noticed RJ's bare neck--the shape and contours of the muscles and smoothness of his skin compared to his stubble on his face. Again, his unshaven face was just the right amount. Looking at his neck I thought of the times when I snuggled up to him and could smell his cologne or when I was close to him and would kiss his neck as we made love. The sunlight in the coffee shop was just as it was in his bedroom. I missed that cozy space that felt like was a world of our own. Fleeting thoughts of memories missed passed in my mind. But this was not the RJ that I met and fell in love as time has a way making change or revealing things you did not see before the present.
At one point, our time seemed to edge on emotional. RJ had been doing most of the talking. So, I thanked him for asking me to get together because I wanted to see him, but I just didn't know what to say. I still didn't know what to say. RJ got a little glossy eyed and changed the subject, noting that he didn't want to cry in public. I later realized that I had been feeling rather numb, but trying to grasp at my emotions just below the surface. I wanted to be more in touch with my emotions at that moment, but it was too soon.
When we finished our drinks, RJ offered to walk me to the corner. It was odd to walk with him down the sidewalk to the corner that we parted on so many other occasions, once with a memorable kiss. We hugged, but it felt partly rushed and empty--not allowing room for the emotions to come to the surface. I turned to go my way and tried not to look back, pretty certain that he would not be looking back at me. As I began to jaywalk and cross the street, I looked over my shoulder for traffic and noticed RJ had done the same on his side of the street. Without realizing it, we were mirroring each other's footsteps and it broke my heart. So very close, so very close to finding real love. It makes me feel so sad that he could not see it, that he could not be strong enough and that I could not be brave enough.
I waited to open RJ's card until I had a quiet moment to myself. I was worried about what he wrote inside wondering if there would be some awful twist. But RJ's card and note were of sentiments of wishing me well. His handwriting was more controlled and consistent, seeming reflective of him getting more of his life together. He seemed to want to do the right thing, but by doing so, only made it hurt more. He said how special I am and that he wishes for all the happiness for me. His words are almost unfair. It made me feel like I was not good enough for him in someway. If I was so very special, why did he let me go? Why could he not pull it together when we were couple? How was it that he just didn't feel that it fit with me when I felt it with him?
Why?
That is the question that looms and haunts me. I have to find a way to let him go. I have to find a way to let go of all of the disappointment of what could have been. It troubles me because it shakes my confidence within myself to trust what is real or what is made up. I thought what we had was worth holding onto. How could I have been so wrong? How will I be able to tell the truth in the future?
But maybe this is what I needed. Maybe I needed this moment to realize that RJ did not fully appreciate me or the unconditional love that I had for him. He did not see the building strength in me that opened me up to love him even more. RJ needs to grow up, make his own decisions in life and let go of his past hurts because it sets limits. I saw some of my obstacles and did my emotional homework of confronting them to be able to move through them. Freedom and strength are on the other side of forgiveness. That is mine to keep. I deserve someone who appreciates me, all of me without trying to change me, and is not so willing to let me go while keeping appropriate emotional boundaries as two separate people who come together to share a life together.
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