Cheers to the season of breakups and engagements and weddings. I toast this cup of coffee to my recent breakup from the man that everyone, including me, thought I would spend the rest of my life with. Life has no guarantees, right? Right.
The breakup has made tears fall out of my eyes, yes. I feel like most of it is a blessing. My anxiety level reduced itself drastically, once a decision to move on was made. We have stayed on good terms, for the most part. He will continue to remain friends with Little Guy and spend time with him. I have reservations about this to a degree, but Little Guy doesn’t need to lose another relationship. We are moving and I have a home to look forward to making my own. Color planning, placement of furniture I do or don’t have, and the question of where I will put my books and the kind of glassware I want occupies my mind when I can’t sleep.
One day, I’ll be ready to open myself up to a relationship again. It’s going to take some time, if I decide it’s worth it. Jaded, I know. You have to understand that my professional life fell to shit along with my personal life. I’m working hard to regain what I lost there, too.
I have to forgive myself for getting so far in to this relationship only to find disappointment. I have to forgive myself for feeling like a failure as a mother that my son has an expectation that the people in our lives leave us. I didn’t guard him as well as I should have from growing this feeling inside him. I left my heart open on the counter, and I laid his next to mine. I’ll know better in the future.
I am grateful. I am grateful that this relationship ended differently than all the rest. I am grateful that Little Guy will still have a pretty good male role model in his life. Despite Little Guy’s expectation that sometimes friends leave his life or we move and he leaves theirs, he will learn that relationships can also change and continue until he no longer needs them.
Oh my dog. Wait, I don’t have one. I’m sitting here in my dining room, thinking of what I want to say next, and when I looked toward the kitchen I noticed that two of the paintings I own do NOT have the colors that I want for MY home. They match the life I used to have, the dishes I used to have, the husband I used to have. Dear stars, they’re going to have to go.
They’re going to have to go like the dishes and the silverware and almost everything else went. Bye, bye old lives. I’m starting fresh. I’m starting new. Like an interior designer chooses wall colors and furniture, I’m placing, with thought and care, everything in my life, starting now.