There are lots of things going wrong right now — romance, finis, your chance, finis, those ants that invaded my pants, finis — but, I am weirdly happy.
I have pms, I have stress and pressure, I am overworked, I am still relatively broke, and I could list all of the things that are wrong, and, ugh, single-ish, but . . . I am happy.
I feel really good in my own skin again. I could read back through my journal and find when the darkness crept in and took over, but I am not that interested in looking backward. I am looking ahead. I am living now.
I like me again. I like how my brain is working.
I just feel clear and real and solid.
I reached out to LP on Monday and we connected via text (which i not at all unusual since he was still working), though it was a little strange and strained. He said: “things are fucking miserable actually. But i am surviving. ” I told him how well things are going and he was happy for me and I added “I have missed you,” without response from him. I was a little cold, suggesting, at some point, we should meet for a drink to catch up.
I reached out to LP last night — I did something sort of strange, but well within the bounds of our relationship, as it was, and something that he would have loved a couple of weeks ago. I sent him a photo. He loves when I send him photos. Loved. I have been changing all my profile pics to a new photo from last week, so I emailed it to his phone well after work hours. No response. That’s happened before when he’s been working like mad and things were still okay. My thought was that he would get it and smile and think of me.
Who knows if that happened.
I thought I would give it a last shot because I did not feel comfortable really moving on with any ambiguity. Now, there’s not. I did what I needed to in order to move on. Now, I can accept we’re done. I am leaving it as I entered it — with warmth and love and lots of lessons learned. For that, I am grateful.
While I am sad, because really, everything about him felt so right, so fast, and I became a better girlfriend to him than I ever was to BFD, I get it and I know what more is out there and how much I do want. I know what I can tolerate and what I will never again abide. It is already impacting how I relate to BFD — from how I speak to him to how I touch him.
It will take me time to get over even the short passionate (unconsummated) affair with LP. I know that already. But even that is okay. From him, I really learned a lot about myself and about what I want and need in the future.
And, even on a very cold day, I am weirdly happy and excited to see what the future brings.