So I kinda know that stuff happens. Maybe I wasn’t the catalyst for many of the painful events that have occurred. Maybe I wasn’t the let-down of a wife that my ex made me feel to be. Maybe I wasn’t the dull, weight dragging The Runner down that I felt like each time he told me he didn’t “fit into a family environment”. Maybe I can let myself off the hook (this will take A LOT of work). But....“I’m ok”? Am I, really? It sure doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m running on empty. Dangerously close to sputtering to a stop. In need of a recharge.
I re-read this blog. Horrified by the amount of energy I’ve spent worrying about what others think. Specifically, tieing my “ok-ness” to whomever I was dating. At first I thought that I haven’t moved forward. But then I took a step back and saw things that I’ve done differently, that I wouldn’t have done a year ago:
1) I ended it with The Runner instead of working and working to force it to work.
2) I have not contacted The Runner since the last blog post. I have a strong urge to hear him say “you are ok” and I keep reminding myself that it doesn’t matter what he says, what he thinks, or what he’s doing right now. I’m ok, I need to know it, I’m ok.
3) I know what I deserve. And I’m taking steps to let go of anything less.
The disappointment with The Runner was a big hit. Bigger than I expected. I hoped it would work out. In truth, I actually thought that it would (not logical, I know, but I’m driven by heart, barely balanced by sound mind). The hit came at the worst time, when the holidays bring isolation to a painful razor sharp point. It knocked me down. And I’m scared to get back up because I don’t want to endure another wave.
I’m ok, I’m ok, I’m ok. I hold my hand over my heart every morning and repeat these words until I can open my eyes and face the world. I think of Grace and our dog and tell myself I’m ok.
