So...I thought I was doin real good. I was moving along, planning my next steps...carefully, mind you...one day at a time. And then..BAM..I cried for about two hours last night. I also used about 700 tissues. I forgot how magnificently lame heartbreak can be at times. How terribly uncompromising it can be. I forgot how quickly every ounce of strength and self assurance can drain from my conscience. For two to three hours last night, all I wanted, despite my better judgement, was to have things back the way they were. I wanted to be in England, wearing my coat and scarf and gloves, holding his hand and walking through park after park after park. I wanted to keep dreaming about where we would live in the future...what borough we would choose, and I wanted to imagine that someday...we might have children. I was sweaty from the Memphis heat, exhausted from the Memphis humidity/allergens, and angry from the driving.
I have always thought that if I loved passionately, despite my shortcomings, I would be loved in return. If I was willing to put the time, effort, and devotion into a relationship, I would be met with the same time, effort, and devotion. I have never understood, even though I have experienced it before, the concept of being rejected by someone I spent so much time loving. In the throws of my terrible sobbing, I often feel a bit too melodramatic...which makes me cry even more. It's horrific to come face to face with your weaknesses...and to succumb.
Despite what I told Diana last night, I do not buy into the sadness. It seems easier sometimes to let it become a part of you...a part of your shtick...but it isn't all that fun. Also...I look pretty horrendous this morning. I'm not sure how often that's going to go over well with me.
I am ready to not be stuffy any more. I am ready to be able to talk like myself...without this darn frog in my throat. Despite not being wild about the idea of, you know, getting a job and having a life...I suppose I am ready to inch my way into that as well.