Tag Archives: emotions

Acceptance Comes Slowly

Posted on by learning to live like water

So dawns a new day.  I still have not heard a peep from him.  I left another voicemail, I have texted him.  It is unlike him to hold a grudge with me, especially when I am so obviously trying to find my way back to him.  But this morning, acceptance is setting in.

I had a nightmare about him last night. And now I’m trying to see if I can logically understand why he is silent.  So far these are my choices.

1.  He’s still angry with me for being so hurt the other night.  He cannot stand being the bad guy.  All it  required was an “I’m sorry”. We all make mistakes, he made one in not telling me he was not going to come.  He made one in underestimating how much it meant to me.  But a heartfelt “I’m sorry” would have gone a long way.  A phone call would have been nice.

2. He read the blogs I wrote after, “Crash and Burn” and “Sifting through the smoldering ruins” and was furious.  He dislikes i when I write about him, us.  When we are published on the internet.  No one knows me, or him.  He says, “yes, but when your book is published they will know who you are, and then who I am….”  That’s still such a long shot. But I have to write about me.  I have told him any blog I write is a snapshot in time of how I am feeling at that moment.  So why don’t I just journal it, why publish?  Because when I am in pain, confused, fearful I long for feedback from my peers.  The community helps me through it, helps me not to feel so alone.  I am quite able, obviously, when my feelings change, or circumstances change, to own it, and correct it here.  I rue the day I ever gave him the link to this blog.  It puts a bracket on my freedom to write what I feel here.

3.  Maybe he is too sick to communicate with me.  I can’t know that he actually went to work yesterday.  I do know that he wasn’t in the hospital.  I do know that he didn’t die, because I checked the obits this morning.  Sounds morbid, I know, but if he had an aneurism, which could kill him instantly, I would never know, I would never be told by anyone because no one knows of me. So it was some kind of black comfort not to see his name there. Maybe he is just in too much pain to add the stress of talking to me to it.  But…he doesn’t have to talk with me.  Just to tell me how he is, in a text or an email, and then ask me to continue to leave him alone, and I will.  Just to ease my mind.

4. I have occasionally, thought, what if his ex girlfriend leaves her new husband (that she found within 4 months of breaking up with him after 12 years) and wants him back?  He told me many times he was not over her, that he thought she was the one.  I asked him not that long ago, maybe a couple months, what he would do if that happened.  He said he didn’t know.  Which didn’t help me feel secure with him at all, obviously.  There is no making sense of who we choose to love, he says he loved her, and she took him for so much…..  I just don’t know.  But it is what it is.  I mean, I still love him after all the ups and downs we have had, when it is quite obvious to me that this is not a healthy relationship.  This #4 reason leads me to the nightmare.

I dreamed he finally called me.  We were, in the dream, on the phone, but I could see him at his house as well.  He told me he was in love. His voice was odd, kind of a falsetto.  He has in reality a deep, sexy voice.  I kept asking with who?  And he just kept telling me it was real, he was finally in love. (He constantly told me he didn’t want to be in love.) Then I could see his ex girlfriend in his jacuzzi.  And I said, “tell me who it is or I’m hanging up.”  He got mad at that threat and started yelling back at me on the phone.  I hung up, I woke up.

This morning I can’t help but wonder if the universe was telling me something.  I don’t even know what to look up on dreammoods.com.  It is so unusual for me to dream about him, about anyone I know, and to remember it, though I am sure I remember it because it woke me.

So where am I at this morning?  Still  numb, thankfully, from the wine and an Ambien.  It’s nice how the two combine to knock you out on a night when you’d not have slept otherwise.  Especially after the dream.  I am accepting that I can’t do anything about his refusal to communicate.  I can call the hospitals again, and make sure he’s not there.  I considered calling his ex-wife, who doesn’t know me, and asking her to check on him.  Because I am pretty sure, that unless he goes in the hospital, he has not told his family about  his health issues either.  By family I mean ex-wife and kids. But then I think, in my best Byron Katie mind, no don’t do that.  Then you are in HIS business.  (you know, there are three kinds of business:  Mine, other peoples, and God’s)

So to try to stay in my business, only mine today, I won’t try to reach him but just let it be, as he used to tell me all the time.  Maybe he’ll be in touch when he feels up to it.  Maybe he never will be again.  My business is to go on with my life.  So, I’m going to go get my hair done, go to the grocery store, go get 2 new tires for my car and maybe talk to my ex husband about our son while they put the tires on, since his business is right next door to the tire place.  But his business is weather related and we are supposed to have a huge storm this afternoon (of course, it’s Saturday) so he might not be there.  That should keep me clear of him until tonight.

Acceptance of what you truly don’t want to have to accept is such a mind-fuck  But again, it’s reality.  He is not communicating with me, and I need to respect that is how he wants it, for whatever reason.  I can’t put too much energy into that thought, the lump in my throat begins to grow again.

Slowly taking steps to move beyond this pain.

Stuff on My Mind

Posted on by learning to live like water

Stuff on my mind lately. Important stuff, to me.  Don’t really know what to do about it.  Don’t really feel like writing about it.  I think it’s best just to sit with it.  I don’t feel pressed to make any kind of decision about it.  I need  a little distance from the “event” that pulled it all to the top.

While I would always describe myself as a  happy person, there is an aspect of my life that seems to be deliriously happy or very unhappy.  Lately more unhappy than happy, even though the happy moments have been grandiose.

Feeling like I wish I could just retire, sell my house and move to Florida, buy myself a cute little house and disappear into the landscape.  In the next 5 days.  Nothing like a dream…

Sometimes it might be way easier not to know what I want.  But all that time I spent figuring out who I was when I left my marriage enabled me to create a vision.  And generally, everything is coming into focus with what envisioned.  Except this one thing…..

Sigh.  Gonna go to bed, sleep on it.  Maybe do a little bit of Byron Katie’s inquiry on it.  It would help to just accept reality I think.  As long as I was sure I knew what that was.

I’ve Been Played by an Expert

Posted on by learning to live like water

I’ve been played.  By an expert player. While last night’s poem “Sweet juice of the grape” aptly described where I was then….I just found out the real truth, and I have been so played.  So used.  So uncared for and fucked over.  S is not the man I thought he was, he is not the man I was so in love with.  He knows how to play me, to get my sympathy.  But I tired of his game, and stopped playing and the truth came out, and I am so done with him….more done than I was when he fucked the prison whore.

Right now, I think that’s what he deserves, is a prison whore and no more.  Certainly not a woman who is capable of loving.  I’m gonna go lick my wounds with a bottle of rum, and  have myself a good cry, and when I get back from Florida maybe find a man who deserves me.

I might even give A a call.  We are friends, and I know he’d gladly hang out with me.  He’s moving in a few days, but I bet he’d be happy to do something with me to take my mind off of what S has done to me.  I know I’ll get over S, because I’m capable of it.  Because I know what I want, and even though I thought it was him, now that I know it’s not, I can deal with it.  Hope he can sleep at night with what he’s done.  My ex-husband was called unconscionable 9 times by the CT Supreme Court.  I wonder how many S would get.

i love my strangers :) especially the ones I have memories with aka friends

Shifting

Posted on by learning to live like water

Feeling unsettled.  Still not feeling real well, though better.  Emotionally I am very unsettled.  That usually means a shift is underway.  A shift, in my perceptions.  A shift in my feelings.  A shift in the way I approach the events in my life.

I think it has to do with accepting that which I cannot change, thus making choices that are more in alignment with reality. Taking a deep breath and seeing what is, untempered by how I want it to be. And somehow being happy about it.

I think.  Moreso, I feel.  Accepting what is.  Words echo in my head, begging me to listen, and not ignore.  I am still trying to ignore these words.  Ok, I will try, I answer.  I’ll try.

Learning to Love What Is

Posted on by learning to live like water

I’m trying to work some stuff out here.

I’ve got some kind of bug. My throat is a little sore causing some laryngitis, and my right eye is a little weepy. I have carpal tunnel in my right hand, arm, wrist, which has been acting up. And this morning, the fingers on my left hand are quite stiff and sore in the joints.

I’m a believer in the emotional component of all illness. I am quite rarely sick, this maybe the first time in a couple years. So I am looking at all the symptoms, with Louise Hay’s book by my side “You Can Heal Your Life”.

A sore throat has to do with holding in angry words and feeling unable to express yourself, the inability to speak up for one’s self, swallowed anger, stifled creativity and refusal to change. Issues with the throat in general have to do with expression, creativity.

Carpal Tunnel Syndrome has to do with frustration and anger at seeming injustices of life.

Arthritis has to do with feeling unloved, criticism and resentment.

Our hands and wrists have to do with the ease through which we move through change.

Eyes have to do with the capacity to see clearly. Eye problems have to do with not liking what you see in your own life.

I have had an ongoing issue with someone for the last couple of weeks. I wanted this person to do something that they were not comfortable with, quite simply. And I was pushing and they were resisting. It seemed a no brainer to me. Something that would have been fun, enjoyable…whatever. To them it was maybe those things, but maybe not. I can’t speak for them, only or myself.

So….as it turned out it came to a head last night. This person is not going to do this thing with me. I am going to do it alone.

I felt sorry for myself. I felt unloved. I criticized myself, feeling I wasn’t good enough. I also did not feel I was able to express myself fully, not on this subject, nor others with this person, because often I think that expressing what I really feel puts them under pressure. So I swallow it, and don’t say it, when I clearly want to.

This person refused to talk to me about it anymore last night, and cut me off from communication. I was angry, resentful.

Thus, all my symptoms.

Coincidentally, I have been reading Byron Katie’s “The Work” for our book club. And I put the 4 questions to only one of these problems, since it is a process taking time.

I realized that I have been stifling what I had to say about the situation. But I did that on purpose because I knew it would not come out with any loving intent, and I didn’t want to go there with this person. But you know what happens to the stuff you bury…..It makes you sick. Voila! I am sick.

I felt very unloved, and was beating myself up for being so pushy last night. I woke up with a very sore left hand. I am loved, even if not in the way I want to be, but by many others, and by this person as well. The person’s choice not to do this thing with me doesn’t reflect whether or not I am cared about by them, only that they were not comfortable with this particular thing.

But I railed against it, and how frustrating and unfair it was, and guess what, my carpal tunnel has been acting up all week.

I am not moving through changes easily, I am not accepting what is. My joints hurt.

And lastly, I don’t like what I’m seeing, and my right eye is bothering me.

Pretty clear, that the body follows the mind, isn’t it?

So…..doing The Work last night brought me to these conclusions. I don’t love myself. I am afraid of change. My thoughts are not creating a joyful and abundant life for me, but one of lack.

This is all about me, not about this person. It is not what they have done but about my reaction to what they feel. Like Byron Katie says, “Who would you be if you didn’t have that thought?”

I would be excited to do this thing on my own. I would share it, and the excitement, with this person, instead of putting the burden on them to create the excitement with me, and thus in some ways, for me. I would be happy I was doing it, whether or not I was alone.

I want to say maybe it’s meant to be, that I do it alone. Maybe there is a door opening there that I am too blind to see, or to fearful to want to walk through. But why? Because it is what it is. The reality is that I’m doing it alone, so I need to rejoice in that. I need to love what is. Why? Because it is what is happening, and it’s not something I can change. The universe doesn’t screw up, I have trusted it before to work things out for my highest good, and for this person’s. And so this must be it.

This person may join me in this at some point. They have said that. But they can’t right now, so I’ll forge ahead, and repeat to myself every minute that I can that I am loved, I love myself, I will create a joyful life, and I will accept the way life unfolds before me. By myself, I will do this, I will not burden another with these things.

I will walk through the fear I have of doing these things alone, and realize I am quite capable of enjoying them on my own. I’ll find my way.

Acceptance of what is is hard, until we actually realize we have no choice. So we can be mad about it, and ruin this moment, or we can accept it, and find some joy in it, and go forward happily.

I will choose the 2nd reaction. I’m sure it gets easier with practice.

It’s all a lesson in learning to live like water.

Trusting My Gut

Posted on by learning to live like water

I trust my gut, almost implicitly.  If something gives me that unsettled feeling in my stomach, I don’t do it, or say it, or go along with it.

You may remember awhile ago A, the guy I saw for a few weeks when I wasn’t seeing S, wanted to take me out to dinner, to see me once more before he moves out west.  My first reaction was that I didn’t want to.  Then I thought that was kind of mean and bitchy.  About two weeks ago he asked if I could go out with him the weekend of May 8, Mother’s Day weekend.

I responded that weekends were tough.  They would be tough, because I usually can see S on the weekends and I’m not giving that up for anyone.  Of course I only said they were tough and didn’t add an explanation. I said how about during the week.  A replied yes, that’ would be fine, we’d firm the date up later that week.  Well I didn’t hear from him again for 2 weeks, till yesterday, when he wished me Happy Mother’s Day via text.  I thanked him.  And I hoped beyond hope that he had let it go.

I know he is moving soon, so I was hoping he’d just go….I mean we only went out for about 2 1/2 or 3 weeks as anything besides friends.  It’s not like a long term big romance.  So I hoped he’d just thought better of the idea and let it go. That would have been my wish, but no.

He just texted me and asked me if I could go out Thursday night.  I was waiting for a text from S, and when I saw it was from A, my gut slid into a very uncomfortable place.  I don’t want to go.  My gut is telling me not to go.

What reason could I give him?  A hundred scenarios ran through my head.  The most frequent was that I had asked S if he wanted to come over Tues or Thurs nights, since I am working late on Wed. night, which, if S and I see each other during the week, it’s usually Wed night.  But that’s none of A’s business.  Idk if S could even come, but the main thing is, was, is, I don’t want to go out with A.  The very idea makes my stomach feel unsettled.

It’s not that S would even get upset over it.  He’s the one who told me to go say goodbye to the guy.

I just don’t want to.  My heart is with S, A was a brief interlude from that, but it didn’t take me long to realize where my heart lay.  I don’t want to be a bitch, I just don’t feel right about it.  I’ve always been a one man woman, and even though my relationship with S is clearly undefined, it is a relationship of some sort, and I don’t have any desire to have a one on one dinner with another man, even if we are “just friends”.  And anyway, if A wasn’t holding on to something, he wouldn’t want to see me so bad.

So, back to what to tell him.  Suddenly, it occurred to me I just had to say no.  I didn’t have to give him some grand run-down of why I couldn’t go.  I just couldn’t go.

I texted him back and said, I’m sorry A, I already have plans for Thursday night. Thanks anyway.

Simple.  And now my stomach isn’t upset anymore.  Hopefully, A got the message, and will let it go.  Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and S will come over.  That, my  gut tells me, would be just fine.

Sitting With Our Sadness

Posted on by learning to live like water

Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten in dealing with difficult emotions is to “just sit with it.”  This advice was given to a meditation group I used to go to once a week.  And honestly, that’s often what we would do for an hour or so there, just sit with whatever we were feeling, in the dark, with quiet music playing, or crystal bowls.  The same facilitator would also tell us, “We don’t need to go excavating.  If you don’t know what is making you sad, it doesn’t matter, just allow yourself to be sad, if you feel sad.  Honor that….”

So, I’ve done a lot of that. I’ve sat through my anger, I’ve sat through my sadness. Sitting with it, allowing it to surface, honoring what I feel, not denying any of it. There are no bad emotions, only bad reactions to them.

Those emotions that we don’t allow, and honor, and instead bury, don’t die. They fester, and rot, and make us sick, literally. I believe that years of unhappy living in a terrible marriage contributed far more to my diabetes than issues of genetics or weight. I don’t believe the body is separate from the mind. As the mind tries to hide from the unpleasant emotions, those emotions pop out somewhere physically. All illnesses have an emotional component. This is reason enough for me, to allow myself to sit with my sadness, anger, confusion, and honor that. Generally, when I have sat long enough with them, they bubble up, and then dissipate.

Meditation is part of my daily routine. I meditate every morning, almost, for about 15 minutes. I find the quiet time generally re-centers me, prepares me to stay focused throughout my day. There are times I catch a quick 5 minute refresher during my lunch hour.

Last night I did it again. I have been told by some people that I talk to much, that I should maybe keep my thoughts to myself, and resist the temptation to tell people exactly what I think. Last night, I silenced my voice, and instead I sat with my angst, my sadness, my confusion. I allowed myself to feel it all, in the middle of the night. For 3 hours.

What happens, when you just sit with it, is that generally acceptance of what is comes to you. Last night was no exception. This morning I accept the reality of what was bothering me, I acknowledge that things are not what I want them to be, and I stop my efforts to make them so. I am reminded of Byron Katie, who says things like, “How do I know it’s supposed to be that way? Because it is….”

As water finds it’s way, I will try to go with the flow. It may seem to be taking me from what I want, but generally, it will get me where I need to be eventually. I may meander from the straight line I wanted to travel, but I may find something beautiful and unexpected in the bend in the river. I may end up where I originally wanted to be but with a richer, fuller appreciation of it. Or I may end up somewhere new and fabulous.

We need, I need, to trust that the universe knows our desires and is conspiring in our behalf to make them reality.

Kissing Frogs

Posted on by learning to live like water

Dating sites are such a crapshoot. If you’ve never been on one, consider yourself lucky. The free sites are so full of scammers, it’s almost unbelievable. I have run into pineapple farmers in Ghana, people who tell me they were born and raised 20 miles from me, who can’t put together a sentence with proper syntax in English.

I’ve also met some real people. S, for one. K, the artist from long ago. Also a number of men who think they are in love with you after messaging for 2 days.

You think you’re gonna go on there, and start up a conversation with someone, and just see if you feel any sparks. Seems simple. I mean, why else is someone on a dating site?

But I find that there are more men (and I have to make this about men, because that’s all I see, so it’s my only experience, but I’m sure it’s the same from the other side) that will view your profile every day, I mean EVERY day….and never message you. Men who will send you a “flirt”, so you respond if you think you might be interested, and never hear from them again, (though often they still view your profile regularly). Or you find someone who seems perfect, with the same interests and a compatible personality type, and so you message them….and never hear back. You gotta wonder, why would they not at least check it out? And then there are men who seem perfect, but after you message them for a day or two, all they turn the conversation to sexual intimacy…..UGH. I always feel like this was a guy trying to suck someone in just to satisfy himself while you talked.

Shy? On a dating site you are anonymous until you choose not to be with someone, so that should help with shyness. Shouldn’t it?

So many are just duplicates of each other. They like “walks on the beach, dinner out, dinner in, cuddling in front of the fire.” They never give up any of who they are, in their profile. One man this morning said in his profile, “Who you are is what you do, right?” NOOOOooooo. It’s not.

Boring. Shallow. At least, to me.

Metaphorically speaking, it gets tedious, kissing frogs who remain frogs.

Still, I look. Still, I don’t know how else to meet men my age. I don’t think anymore that I won’t find someone without baggage. I don’t think you find yourself single at this age, and not have any baggage. It’s really a matter of finding someone whose baggage you can deal with, whose baggage is similar to yours, so you can work on it together. If you are divorced, or widowed, at this point in life, it has affected you, and to deny it is to deny your life experiences. Silly, unhealthy…..

I have a new friend I met online…which is nice. He lives close to me, we enjoy each other’s company. But he’s moving in the summer, a long way away. So….I can’t get too attached to him. I don’t want to open my heart too wide, because I don’t want to be in pain when he goes. I’ll have to be vigilant, to make sure that doesn’t happen. One heartbreak a year is enough. And really, I’m still pretty raw from the last one to get involved with someone yet.

But still I look. There’s a song by Crosby, Stills, and Nash called Southern Cross. The end of the song has this line: “Somebody fine will come along, make me forget about loving you, at the Southern Cross.” Hopeful. Still hopeful.

A Comfy Cozy Blanket of Snow

Posted on by learning to live like water

It’s snowing again. I live in New England, Connecticut to be exact. And it’s snowed a lot this winter, like well in excess of 4 ft. And been cold. And most of us, even those who usually like a little snow…are sick of dealing with it. But I’m glad this one is on a weekend. I was out with a friend, drove home in it. It wasn’t too bad. But when I got home, I sat down with a glass of wine, found a movie on TV, booted up the computer, and made some popcorn.

It seems a little weird, but I’m one of the people who bitches the most loudly about how much I hate winter. Right now…I feel all comfy cozy, happy, relaxed, relieved to be home. Happy to be happy.

All the stuff with the old relationship is somehow unimportant today. That’s a huge relief. Really. I’m very ready to be done with it and moving on.

I’m about to make myself some spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. I will have another glass of wine with it. I will worry slightly about my son driving home from work in this, but it’s not going to be that bad, I’m sure he will be ok. Maybe I’ll watch last week’s episode of Downton Abbey or State of Affairs, or something else. I look forward to getting into a bed with clean sheets, reading a little.

Glad to have the drama over with. Glad to be moving on. Relieved to know I won’t be getting middle-of-the-night texts telling me he hates me or is sorry or whatever. Glad for the silence. The sanity. Not missing the mind-fuck.

Sleep will be nice. I will wake up fresh, and free and happy and grateful for the constant warmth and love of friends and family. Life is good.

With Love and Gratitude, Good bye.

Posted on by learning to live like water

So I broke it off with him. I spent the night with him the night before he went in the hospital. I was scared. I was allowing myself to love him, setting myself up for hurt again, at some point. But I didn’t let it stop me. I thought about how I wanted to be there for him. I wanted him to have a nice memory to think of and wake up to when he came out of the anesthesia. I wanted him to know that someone cared how he was, and whether or not he hurt, or felt alone. I wanted that. I loved him. I loved him whole heartedly, without consideration of what he had done. It was true and honest and I don’t regret it.

The two days he was at the hospital, I worried over him. He didn’t get me the patient code as he’d promised, so I had to go through roundabout ways to find out if he was ok, or spending the night, or released. People I worked with didn’t understand why I cared so much. Hell, I didn’t understand. But I did. That’s all. I did. So I talked to him that night, and the next morning. He was in so much pain. I would have liked to just be there, sitting beside him. Just so he didn’t have to open his eyes and be alone.

But that wasn’t the way it was. There was too much water under the dam. I was going to take the time off from work, but he chose to go it alone. As he always does. I was afraid, anyway, to be so close to him. Because I still loved him, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did not feel the same.

But then, what he thinks of me is none of my business. Right? I don’t know if it’s smart to allow myself to be so vulnerable. But I did, it’s done. I don’t think I regret it, because I gave it everything. It was his to accept or deny. He chose denial in the end. Why? I have my theories. But only he knows, somewhere in his soul, why he didn’t want the woman who loved him.

But then the gong bath happened…

And the next morning I woke up and didn’t care that much. I still cared, but not the same way. It was not visceral, it was not that intense, heavy kind of caring. I think it came together for me as a result of the gong bath. Suddenly, I knew he would never love me, that if I stayed with him, I would be repeatedly hurt by him. It is not his fault…it is mine, I stayed knowing he and I were not compatible on many things. One of them is our views on sex, and monogamy. And there were other things…which are none of anyone else’s business, personal things that he and I could not come to common ground on that I kept pushing into the background, because I loved him. But eventually, they would have surfaced, you know…those things you bury don’t die….they rot and fester and make you sick. In a relationship, they make the relationship sick. They cause resentment, and anger, and feelings of rejection, and loss of self esteem. I knew that would happen.

Trouble was, he was still in a lot of pain on Friday. I didn’t want to talk to him about it. Not until he felt better. We talked, I tried to be my same loving self, but I know the difference in how I felt showed through the phone lines. The next day he asked, what exactly is going on with you.

He knew. We have always communicated on a nonverbal plane when we are apart. He knew. Thus began a long and hard conversation. It was still too early to have it, but he knew,and I couldn’t lie. Or pretend it was different. I told him, I still love you, but I don’t think I’m in love with you.

And so, now, after 36 hours of texting, questions, accusations and then an attempt to see me to say good bye, we are done. I was not ready to see him. I don’t think I’m in love with him, but there is still hurt and rejection over the betrayal. Seeing him is painful. I told him, not yet. Maybe later. He got mad. I’m sorry he got mad. I’m sorry I couldn’t just see him and wish him well. But truth is…the wound has healed enough for me to see clearly, but it still hurts. The way an incision hurts under the surface for a longtime. I know we are mis-matched, and I know neither of us would ever be happy going forward. I don’t believe I could ever quite let go of his betrayal if I stayed with him. It would come back every time I felt threatened, every time he flirted with a waitress, or the girl behind the counter at the drug store. I would have made him miserable, and I would have been too. I told him, the prison whore sunk our ship, at the end of the day.

I will miss him. I will miss his flirty, sexual innuendo’d texts. I will miss having him in my life, kind of having a “significant other” after all the years of being alone. I will miss our excursions. Sunday afternoon naps. His wild and crazy stories of his youth. His hands. His passion.

But I won’t miss that feeling in the pit of my stomach when I don’t know where he is. I won’t miss the questions, I won’t miss the distrust that is now there permanently.

Done. Gonna take some time off. Let the wound heal, so that it’s not even tender before I meet the next guy. I don’t want to bring baggage into a new relationship, just like I took off years before I started this one, to try not to bring baggage from my marriage to it. And still, the baggage was there. There is relationship baggage you don’t know about until you are in a relationship, I found out. It wasn’t easy, this first one. But it was fun. It created growth in me. And I know myself much better. I know what I want better today than before I met him.

So…I thank him, I love him. We are done. May we both continue our journey back to source.