I barely know where to begin.
This week was big. Do you ever have one day that changes your whole perspective? Yeah, that. That.
I had a scare last week. I doubt I have to come right out and say it. You know the scare. The holy-mother-fucking shit-what-the-hell kind of scare. There's this moment, when you're moaning and complaining about how you feel and all of a sudden it dawn on you that OH SHIT! and then your friends encourage it and pretty soon you believe it. And then you hate your damn body for being a damn petri dish that's absolutely beyond your control.
Are you following? I thought I was knocked up. The timing was right. And yet so so wrong. And for about a day I was scared shitless. My first thought was, If it's true, what the fuck would I tell him? Yeah. Never mind that singlemomhood would suck balls and where the hell would I put a baby and I can barely afford myself and it's not like I have any family here to help or whatever so it would be ALL ME. Never mind all that because it would be all wrong.
So so wrong.
This is coming from a woman who wants a baby so badly she'd consider stealing one and stuffing it in her uterus. Yeah. I want a baby. But not like this. Not like this.
And then the haunting prevailing thought was that if it were true, if I was preggers, I'd be tied to that man for life...and I felt deep down in my core that, no, I don't want to be tied to him for life. No way.
Which I needed to feel. I knew that of course, consciously, I knew he was wrong for me. I knew that. But I hadn't truly FELT it. I needed to really feel that, to be punched in the gut by it. I needed to feel that certainty in my whole body. Sometimes a scary ass situation can be the best thing for you.
Needless to say, I'm not pregnant. I took a test, for peace of mind mostly, and I wish I could frame the damn thing it made me so happy.
And it's not like I don't still care for him or have love for him. Of course I do. With the exception of a couple uber douches, I still have love for several exes. I care about them. Of course I do. Maybe I shouldn't, but that's just not in my nature. It's not like I want to be with them again; it's more that once I give someone love, I don't take it all back. I spread the love around, people. Maybe one of my issues is that I have too much heart, but that's just too damn bad. Because I yam what I yam.
In fact, I probably have better relationships with these guys as friends than when we were in relationships. But that's a whole 'nother issue entire.
Anywayyy, back to my point. Ever since that insane day, I've felt free, happy. I also realized a few things.
We all know how unhappy I'd been the last few months. I think I'd been losing myself (well, I know I had), but also, I think I was unhappy in the relationship and unwilling to see that. I'm nothing if not tenacious but blind tenacity isn't always healthy.
So yeah, I'd been unhappy and not my usual self and once I started to find myself again, the fun, funny me started coming back. I missed her as I know everyone else did too. We all get caught down from time to time and I'm giving myself patience to get back again. While I don't regret this breakup anymore (and regret isn't the right word since it implies culpability of some kind, but I lack a better word.), I do wish he could have been more patient, at least realized that's what I was going through. I could have used the support. Of course, that's one more reason this was for the best.
More than that, despite the misery of going through a breakup, feeling unloved and rejected and wounded while I grieve this relationship I'd put all of myself into (and lost so much of myself into), I've been happier than I'd been in months.
I'll stop there before this becomes a dissertation. I have much to share still, like changing my hair (!) and all the great stuff I'm doing for myself. I'll hopefully find a minute to write again soon.
Also, The Blogger Body Calendar is up for sale now (wee!). Go and buy yo. PS? I'm July. Eeek!
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