On Breaking Like a Little Girl

breakingi like a little girl

So, look….I don’t break like a little girl. Usually. And not now, not today. In fact I’m a long ways away from breaking.

I am tired, I am slightly stressed. I know I need to be doing things like putting my furniture up for sale that I’m not taking with me. I’ve heard to just sell it on ebay, with a pick-up only, not to use Craig’s list. Don’t want to be letting the craigslist killer in my front door. Maybe I could advertise it in the local little paper. IDK. I need to find someone to give my old washer and dryer to, although, I have been told that Big Brother/Big Sisters will take that stuff off your hands and put it for sale in their stores, Savers. Which seems like a good cause, and I could take a tax deduction.

I need to finish getting the utilities in the Florida house in my name. I need to have the mail forwarded up here from there, til I move there.

I worry that my boss will find all this stuff out, about both houses, and it will ruin my relationship with him, which is good at the moment. Work life could get very unpleasant if that happens. But if I tell him, without an exit date, he might give me one, and I might not be ready to move, and I don’t want to have to pay this mortgage if I don’t have a job. So every day I feel like I’m taking a chance.

I want to find out what a POD will cost to get my son’s stuff to CO. I need to get costs on moving my stuff to FL.

Yesterday I was sat on my deck and fell asleep in the sun. It was lovely. But while I was there, I thought about how I ran into a good friend at the store yesterday, in the organic produce section, and we talked for 15 or 20 minutes. She wants to try her hand at jewelry making, for a hobby, because her youngest child is about to go off to college. So we made tentative plans for me to go with her to get some basic tools etc, and I told her to come over some Sunday (her husband works weekends) and we’ll sit on the deck and make jewelry…drink wine…

Anyway, sitting out there yesterday, thinking about that, I thought, God, I wonder how long it will take me to have friends like that in Florida? Friends I can make spur of the moment plans with, like going to Costco Saturday with my bff, like going to my cousins to do reiki, like having this friend over to make jewelry on the deck. I will miss my peeps so much. They are my family here. I’ll have to create a whole new family and that’s a little scary.

Altho, my bff said Saturday, “we want to come see you as soon as you get settled.” And I know she means it. I said, “October, you will love it there in October. You will be getting pissed because it’s getting cold here…Florida is lovely then.”

But still I had this dark vision of me sitting alone every weekend there, nothing to do and no one to do it with. It was momentary, because I know I will make friends, and I know that before I’d sit all alone, I’d probably head to the beach or my sisters, or something….But, you know, the fear kind of showed up momentarily.

But, I guess the point is, it doesn’t break me. I think a broken heart can break me, but even that only momentarily. And who knows, maybe I know enough now to work through it, without feeling broken at all, if it happens again. Plus, I think I learned enough lessons from the last two men, to choose better, and not fall in love with someone who will treat my heart so callously. I’m sure there are men who actually appreciate a loving heart, and will treat it lovingly in return. I’m hoping I find one in Florida.

Maybe at the yacht club, lol. Or maybe I’ll get a fishing pole and go down to the fishing pier and find a fisherman, one that doesn’t get a thrill out of being helicopter lifted off a sinking ship. One that just likes to catch fish, and be near the ocean. Calmer…..more content. More appreciative of the joys life offers every minute. One who doesn’t need to be walking on the edge to feel alive. One who feels alive every moment he takes a breath, and finds wonder in that gift.

So, the opinion once given me by the man who broke my heart, that I break like a little girl, well, I am gonna guess that he has probably discarded that opinion of me anyway. I broke like a grown up, and I did my work, and I once again found a new path that will work for me. I’ll get through the hard parts of it, probably by writing, by being near the sea every day, by finding joy somewhere every moment.

I won’t walk the edge, I won’t risk falling off. And if I slip, I won’t break. If I crack, well…I’ll let the light in, let it weld the pieces back together, and glow a little brighter when it’s over.

Love and light.

3 responses to “On Breaking Like a Little Girl

  1. That made me think of the Bob Dylan song “Just like a woman”… where he sings “she breaks just like a little girl”. But in the song, that felt like something beautiful, to me at least. 🙂 Typical of the ones that hurt us that they take what can be beautiful and make it ugly…. No matter how we break, in which way we do it, the important thing is how we mend ourselves again, I believe. And… better to break a little, once in a while, than be a heartless, cold stone of a person, right? *not mentioning any names here, or anything!* 😉 We will be ok, always. Hugs!

    • Yes. We will. That’s how the conversation went. “S, if you break up with me it will hurt. It will be really hard for me. But I’ll get through it. I’m very strong.” He laughed and said he’d seen no sign of that, that I break like a little girl. Well maybe!!! Like the one in the picture. Lol. Who I would not want to fuck with!

      Yes so much better to allow yourself to be vulnerable and know how to pick yourself up after being dealt with by one of “them” than to live life never having an honest emotion.

      • Bah. Little girl, huh. Little girls can be fierce and strong in their own way… 🙂 You are completely right of course. Emotions win over the soulless voids, any day! xo

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.