Thanks for the Clarity.

Damn, a lot has happened in the last year.

A year ago, I was a scared single mama. Taking the kidlet on a road trip, just the two of us. We made amazing memories during that long weekend. I agonized over whether to contact Leon, and remember how I decided to just do it. Hell, I'd just stood on the edge of a canyon with no railing. I could text a man I cared about to let him know I was thinking about him. I wished him well and he responded.

And I came home a different person. Braver. I remember racing home to see CF, who called me out on stuff, and got me out of my comfort zone. What we decided that night did not end up happening. But not because I wasn't brave enough. Because he wasn't.

And less than five months later, the kidlet and I flew to another state where I navigated a wonderful trip for him. On my own. And I wasn't scared and it was amazing. And a few months after that, I did it again.

I've got this.

I had avoided watching Private Practice for the last three weeks. I didn't think I could handle watching the Charlotte/rape storyline.

But yesterday, I went to therapy. And we talked about the assault. And we talked about how scared I've been. And we talked about how I need to remember not to let my anger at LI get pushed off onto the husband or to Eric. And how I should be responsive, not reactive. It's a little easier said than done. Because I can't control how other people act.

But last night, I decided to go ahead and watch the episodes I had been avoiding.

And, sure, it was awful. And, yeah, I looked away during the brutal scenes.

But what really struck me was how they focused on the reactions of those closest to her. And how they navigated the minefield of emotion around her.

And I found myself realizing that maybe... Just maybe... Eric isn't quite the asshole I think he is.

That maybe he simply did not know how to deal with what happened. And the flipping out I did freaked him out. So, he ran away instead of facing it head-on.

Am I excusing his whole "it's okay for me to cheat on my girlfriend and make you feel insignificant" act? No.

But maybe he was grieving too. Because if he ever did love me (and I really would like to think that he did at one time. I spent a significant period of time with the man) maybe it was really hard for him to deal with what had happened. Then again, maybe he didn't really realize what happened. I did downplay it quite a bit that night.

But last night, watching that show... I sat on this couch, beneath the red blanket, and I shivered. Just like I did that night. With Eric on the other end of the couch. He had to have known that something inside of me had shifted.

But for whatever tough act I'd put up that night, Eric was the one who knew me best. He was the one who pointed out the vulnerability inside of me. And he was the one who had sworn never to hurt me.

And then there's the husband. Maybe the reason why he wouldn't hold my hand the other night after dinner or when we went to coffee is that he's scared. He actually does know what happened. Maybe, just maybe, he deserves a little bit of grace because maybe, just maybe, he's scared to touch me because he's scared of scaring me the way he does know that I was scared that night.

And the girls who know and have not contacted me since? Maybe I can offer them some grace now, too. Because they don't know how much it hurts to share something so awful and then have them disappear. And they don't know that Eric did the same thing to me, so that makes their disappearance hurt that much more.

For whatever reason, people are who they are. And they don't get the answers when they don't ask the questions. And I can learn to be okay with that... Eventually.

Two years ago, TF and CB included me with their family. And I remember checking my phone for some kind of acknowledgement that HRT was thinking of me. (I really need to stop having major breakups in November! (Yes, even the husband and I broke up over Thanksgiving. Three years ago. LOL)

But this morning, I did that silly note about books on fb. And some of those titles were highlighted, thanks to people who are no longer in my world.

So, I sent a little Light and Love their way, and I'm moving on.

I'll get through this day. Even though I know where I'm not wanted. I'm grateful to know that I was wanted in many other places today.

And I'm going to forgive those who didn't want me today. Because they know not what they do. They're not wired that way.

And, hell, I'm even going to forgive the ones who didn't want me today that DO know what they do. Because I want to be THAT girl.

I'm going to be good to ME today.

And I'm so fucking grateful for the Thanksgivings past that brought me to where I am today. I DO have a lot to be thankful for, even if it doesn't look like it from the outside.

Scars heal. And they DO fade. I'm walking proof of that.

I have a wonderful child who loves me and I had an amazing day with him yesterday. And when I do see him again, I'll be so glad.

I have a plan for today.

I have my BGPs. I have technology. I have an awesome job. I have amazing friends. I am loved. Maybe not by one man who wants to love me and be with me, but I am surrounded by love. I do know this.

And I'm finally learning to be alone. And it doesn't totally suck. It's got its perks, too.

Happiest of Thanksgivings to you, the few who bother to read this drivel. Live and Breathe Gratitude.

Twelve.

Twelve years ago, today, I married my best friend.

One year ago, today, I went out and celebrated a day I dubbed the "anti-versary". Dinner and drinks with the girls and then a play. Leon would kiss my shoulder that night and I would ponder that. Which led to what happened next...

Today, The Ex is still probably my best friend. We still laugh together. He still completely understands me. He knows all of my history. (Well, the history prior to the last couple of years. Haha.)

But we're not celebrating this day. And maybe we won't have a 13th. Maybe this will be the year we actually get divorced. Who knows?

And maybe it's just because I'm exhausted and sunburned, but I'm feeling kind of sad about this. I made it through most of today without even thinking about it. But I'm thinking about it now.

::shrug::

Saying it.

Remember when I took the kidlet on a trip over Thanksgiving? It was a driving trip out-of-state. And I was pretty terrified going into it. TF had planned the whole thing and then had to back out a few weeks in advance. And I was all freaked out over going on my own.

Yeah.

Tomorrow afternoon, we leave for a trip out-of-state.

And I've planned it. I booked and paid for the plane tickets. I booked a rental car. I secured places to stay with dear friends for most of the nights we'll be gone. I've booked awesome activities for while we're gone.

And, of course, Eric generously offered me hotel points so that we could stay in a hotel on the night we arrive. And, shockingly, I accepted.

I have yet to pack. But I'm getting laundry done, so that's my excuse.

And I'm not scared. I've totally got this.

What a difference a few months makes. And what a difference pulling it off once makes.

I am a completely different person than the one I was at Thanksgiving.

I'm no longer crying over Leon. I've actually gotten to my grateful place about him.

I got to see CJ, hand him a copy of my book and thank him for being so influential during that time. I got to tell him to his face that I deserved better than the way he blew me off. And he looked me in the eye and said, "I know. And I'm so sorry." He explained what was happening in his world at that time (which, of course, had nothing to do with me) and I pretty much brought a ton of stuff to the surface for him. Threw some truths at him that he had yet to see. I was, apparently, his Reason.

And, I went there that night with Eric's blessing. Because Eric is great like that.

Eric read my blog a bit. And then stopped. Probably for the best. But he signed an email "YABE". "Your Assless Boyfriend, Eric." And I totally love that he is so great about it.

It's been hard for me to find time to write. This whole business of falling in love and having a grownup relationship when there are kids and Exes and whatnot involved... It's time-consuming. And it's beautiful and amazing and complicated and frustrating and wonderful.

This man encompasses everything that was on my lists. He kicks more ass in his corner of the world than I do in mine.

He really hears me. And he really sees me. And at 1:00 this morning, when I sobbed in his arms, he told me I was being ridiculous. But at 8:30, over coffee I'd made in the French Press, he admitted that I was absolutely not ridiculous.

We're still in the honeymoon phase. Ish.

Today when he emailed me and accidentally used "your" instead of "you're", I actually let it slide. Minutes later, he emailed me again apologizing and asking if I was going to break up with him. I love that he knows that is so huge to me.

We have different definitions of being "in love". And I'm trying to wrap my mind around that.

By my definition, I love him. I have since days after we first spoke. And even after that horrific first date, I knew I still would love him. That we would be great friends.

But, by my definition, I'm falling in love with him, too. And, by his? He's not there yet. And that's hard. But only sometimes. Because I know how he feels about me. I can see it in his phone calls and texts. In the way he listens and in the way he looks at me. In the way that he touches me. In the way that he won't let me turn away and hide my tears. He kind of sees through my tough chick act. And, shockingly, I'm okay with that.

Secure in the knowledge of what we have, I can go finish the laundry and get to packing for our trip.

I get to see my LLT in the morning. And then we're off. For another kickass trip that I can provide for my son because I left his dad. Who remains one of my very best friends.

Life is good.

Secrets and Lies

I woke up feeling like shit this morning.

Slept most of the day until it was time for my appointment.

Eric, of course, offered to bring me soup, kleenex, anything I needed. I didn't feel quite ready for him to see me looking like something the cat dragged in, however...

And then I went to get the cancer removed. I got there early, and with the doctor ahead of schedule, I was done right about the time everybody started sending the Light and Love. Hee!

So, I called Eric. And asked if he was working from home and could I come over? I had a couple of things I needed to tell him. And, hell, I had just beat cancer, so I was feeling somewhat kickass. Even though I still looked like shit.

And I sat down and told him the big scary secrets. Like about the scars that HRT left. And that even though I'm becoming this honest person, I haven't always been so.

But I needed to tell him because I see this going somewhere and I wanted him to know now so that he still has a chance to get out if he chooses.

And after I told him the big scary things, he patted the couch next to him and I came over and snuggled up against him. And he told me to just never lie to him. I can agree to that.

And then I left to go hug the kidlet and I checked my phone.

I'd gotten an email in response to a voicemail I'd left last week.

For Leon.

Because last week, it hit me that I was grateful. I was grateful for his presence in my world when he was in it. That he was as good to me that he could have possibly been. He simply didn't have the capacity to be any better to me. But that didn't mean he ever meant to hurt me. And he was the right person to be in my world at that time. I'm grateful that he didn't sleep with me. I'm grateful that I got to learn about dating and stuff with someone who kept me (mostly) safe.

So, on the day that we might have done that thing together (but it would be raining. LMAO.), I picked up the phone and called. And said those things to his voicemail. Told him not to worry about calling me back. But that I just wanted to thank him.

Then I let it go...

And, actually, kind of forgot that I did it. Because it was so not a big deal. I just expressed my gratitude. It was on him how he decided to take it.

And, apparently, he took it well.

And he wrote me an email to tell me so. And it was lovely.

And then I went and hugged my son and texted a few of my girlfriends who knew those truths and understood what a big deal it is that I told Eric.

And I'm just feeling utterly exhausted and completely loved.

So, even sick and unshowered and doctor's office scented, I'm happy.

Lighter.

I told the big scary things and he hasn't run away.

And the Spree feels soothing on my sore throat.

:)

Now I get to choose between Quality and Quality.

Have you missed me?

I have.

Um, remember this? The list?

I just re-read it.

And, um...

So far, Eric is all of that. I don't know how he is in bed. Not that he didn't offer to let me find out... The first time we met.

Let me backtrack.

I was supposed to flee the state for Valentines Day weekend. And my friend ended up getting sick, so there I was... Alone... For the entire weekend. With no plans. Not a good place for me to be at that time.

It ended up being a lovely weekend. I spoke to Brendan while he was on a long drive... For, like, two hours. He even brought me into the convenience store while he stocked up on candy and water. I told him to get Spree, but that doesn't seem to be found very easily lately.

Anyway.

The next day, something happened that I wasn't clear about... And it turned out the ultrarunner that I'd been interested in last year knew what had happened... And we got to texting... And then I was sitting there reflecting... About how pivotal he was in my world. How he was a part of that Mother's Day weekend last year that changed everything... And I had never thanked him.

So, I did.

And we ended up meeting for dinner. And it was awesome. He promised to call the next day.

But I woke up thinking about Brendan.... Hoping he would call me on his way home. And perhaps we could meet. Because he pretty much has to drive through my town to get home. We texted that morning and he promised to call me on his way home.

And then the ultrarunner didn't call. I didn't expect the ultrarunner to call (nor did I particularly care. Except that I hadn't asked him to call. He simply volunteered when we'd said goodnight the night before). But I did expect Brendan to call.

In the meantime, someone contacted me through the dating website... And I found myself intrigued...

He'd posted what he's looking for in a woman...

What I look for in a woman: cute, funny, smart, sassy, honest, kind, open minded, intellectual curiosity, socially conscious, playful, affectionate, mischievous, down to earth, wine tasting fan, responsible, professional, independent, outdoorsy, reader, fan of the arts, single, good communication skills, movie lover, passionate, sensual, romantic, friend, adventurous, social

Um, hi? Has he been reading my blog?

We wrote back and forth a few times that day. I was totally entertained, but still had my hopes sky-high for Brendan. But then he didn't call.

So, there I was... Valentine's Day. I'd gotten to see my son for maybe an hour or two, but he wasn't with me that night. And I missed him. And then the boy I liked disappointed me. By breaking a promise.

So, when I opened a bottle of Cabernet that night and sat on the couch to feel sorry for myself, the tears came... And that's when the phone rang.

It was Brendan.

I quickly dried my tears and was pleasant on the phone. He wanted to follow through with the phone call he'd promised, but he waited until he got home... Hmmm...

The next day, the emails with the new guy flew fast and furiously... And then Brendan called that night. A spur-of-the-moment thing. And when we hung up, I got an email from the new guy... Asking me if we could talk. He wanted to "match the voice to the prose"... And I was excited to talk to him. I had been very much enjoying his emails. He's clever and funny... Asked me lots of really good questions...

We were on the phone til midnight.

And I liked him. I really liked him.

Which kind of confused me about how I felt about Brendan. I'd been putting in a lot of effort with him. Because he was worth it. I'd been calling him "my future husband, but he doesn't know it yet" for two months. Completely convinced that it was just a matter of time until he decided not to be afraid of our connection and to decide that we would be great.

And then Brendan didn't call the day he said he would. Again. Ugh.

So, then the new guy and I decided we could meet. His travel plans for work changed and could I meet him for lunch near my work? I couldn't, but we ended up meeting at my favorite coffee shop that afternoon.

And after four days of amazing phone calls and emails, we were both pretty excited.

I still spoke to Brendan on the way to work that morning. Didn't mention anything about the new guy (although I think he had stepped up the contact when I did mention I'd been on a date that weekend), but we had a great conversation. Totally connected. Again.

But I was anticipating meeting the new guy that afternoon. My body was humming with tension and excitement.

D talked me down while I was driving there... Told me to breathe and shit. Reminded me that I had been thinking Brendan was "the one" and how could I be so into someone else in such a short period of time?

And I talked it out. About how Brendan is actively working towards something in his work. And I love listening to him talk about it. But he says things about how he wants to be a man of his word. And yet... He hasn't been that with me. How many times does he get to promise he'll call at a particular time or on a particular day and then not and then I blow it off? I don't stand for that in others, why do I with him? Fears shmears. I was on my way to meet someone who absolutely had been showing me that he is interested in me.

And there he was.

And he gave me an amazing gift... Something beautiful and perfect for me.

And I was so completely not attracted to him.

Fuck.

But I stayed. And drank dirty chai. And got to know each other further. Ish.

And then he asked, "Do you want to get out of here?"

And I asked, warily, "And go where?"

"Back to my place," he replied.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't."

We went for a walk instead. And I couldn't find the words to tell this guy that I totally adored him, but was completely not attracted to him and could we just be really good friends?

But I still kissed him. Hoping I would feel something. But I didn't.

Within moments of driving away, he was texting me and emailing me. Apologizing for what he'd asked.

I told him I needed time to process and no, I wouldn't see him before he left town for work. But that I would talk to him when he got back...

We emailed for a couple of days... I called Brendan and asked him to meet me for dirty chai (he'd never tried it) that weekend. And he did.

And, again, we had a great time together. He told me his birthday was coming up the following week. And I called him out on how he tells me he'll call on a particular day and then doesn't. And that it's not okay. And he said he wouldn't do that anymore.

And I knew that the new guy had a date with someone else that night. I found myself wondering how it had gone. And I asked him. Because I wanted to be friends with him, right?

I went to bed and woke up to his response. He'd joked that he'd slept with her. And I didn't like that I felt a twinge of something when I read that. I was grateful that the next thing I read was that he'd been joking. But I was confused that I felt relieved.

Why did I care? I wasn't attracted to him. He can fuck whomever he chooses.

But I really, really liked him. And I must admit that I really, really appreciated that he pretty much really liked me. (He swore he wasn't in love with me. But that he was "smitten".)

And then something shifted. He went away for work. And it was like I was with him on that trip. He emailed often and texted and called me from hundreds of miles away. And he asked the greatest questions... Like about who my best friend is. And why was she my best friend? And I've been brutally honest with him, "Yes, if I had to choose today, I would say that we would be just friends... But I'm open to seeing you again... When we're not so nervous..."

And I love what he does for a living. It's something I admire. And he is really good at it. And I love that I'm never left wondering if he's thinking about me... Because he lets me know. And I have come to realize that I require that from someone I'm dating. I require daily contact. Even if it's just a text or something quick on a busy day. But that's not negotiable.

But I'd found Spree the day after I'd seen Brendan. And I bought it for him for his birthday. And I found a few other bits of perfection that he would totally love.

And on his birthday, I called him on my way to work. I got his voicemail, but left an adorable message.

I realized I was keeping my weekend free, hoping I would see him.

But then the new guy asked if I was around, and I found that I had decided I would see him on Friday night. I would wait til his kids went to bed and go see him. And we would keep it casual, and I would see how I felt about him when I was in his space. I felt like I wanted to be in control. And, I admit that I sensed that he would make himself available if I decided I wanted to see him. I made it very clear that he was not to ask me to have sex with him. Haha.

But then I didn't even hear from Brendan. I finally texted to ask if he'd gotten my voicemail. And he texted me right back and asked if he could call me Friday morning. After crying to TF, I responded adorably that he could (because it would be FRIDAY!! LOL.). She helped me decide that I wouldn't give him the other small gifts I'd purchased. But I could give him the card and the two rolls of Spree. Because that's small and cute.

I woke up Friday morning to an email sent from an airport from the new guy.

And Brendan didn't call.

And I found myself re-reading the Leon blogs. And seeing some major similarities.

So, I decided I would eat the Spree.

Fuck Brendan. I'm done.

And then I saw the new guy.

Eric.

And I was so much more comfortable with him. He served me wine (a zinfandel in a real zinfandel glass) and we just talked... And he told me that he never talks about his work. He just tells people he does government work. But he told me. And I find it utterly fascinating. And he talked about a celebration that is a few months away. And I found myself wanting to be a part of that. And then he told me he wants me to be a part of it. He'd asked me to bring my iPod because he wanted to hear what music I listen to. And I did. (This is pretty rare for me, actually, for some reason...)

And he asked me more questions and I told him about different friends and different relationships... I told him about how I'd been in a band several years ago and how much I miss it... He says I'm like an onion... That he wants to peel back the layers of me and that he is fascinated by the person I am... That there are so many facets to me.

And he's not running away, screaming. He doesn't seem to be intimidated by the gigantic personality that is RetroMama.

And then he told me he wanted to kiss me. And I let him.

And this time, I felt something. It was lovely.

And we just sat and held hands and hugged and talked and it was beautiful.

I got home at 1:30 in the morning... And I ate a red Spree.

Stood up.

Dear CJ,

Thank you.

Thank you for being a nice, somewhat normal guy.

Thank you for that banter in the beginning. Hell, even up until yesterday afternoon.

Thank you for enjoying the brownie and for telling me so.

Thank you for respecting my wishes that night. And for making me stick to my rules.

Thank you for being so pivotal in getting me to complete my second novel. (I do hope that when it gets published next month, you'll get a copy. Because there's something in it just for YOU.)

Thank you for getting me out and about to watch football and to see movies and to see the lights that night.

Thank you for kissing me in parking lots.

Thank you for answering my questions (well, until the last few days).

Thank you for telling me that you like me and that I'm very sexy.

Thank you for holding my hand.

Thank you for making me come.

Thank you for not having sex with me.

Thank you for helping me see that Leon would never be worthy. Even though you never knew he even existed.

Thank you for asking me good questions. Thank you for asking hard questions. Thank you for not holding any of those answers against me.

I'm sorry that the fact that I was alone for nearly 48 hours starting on Christmas Day affected you. I don't quite understand the dynamics of your family stuff, so it was hard for me to accept when I didn't hear from you. I'm sorry that the fact that I was taking on a 50k race (hence, the Race Mode attitude) affected you. And I'm sorry that there was a PMS issue there, too.

But if you were done, you really could have told me. And you could have let it end on Saturday. You didn't have to act like I mattered more than I actually do. You didn't have to beg for a chance to have a conversation. You didn't have to check on me after my race and be all sympathetic when you heard how messed up I was.

And you certainly didn't have to flirt with me all afternoon yesterday. And ask me to dinner. And then when I said I couldn't do dinner, you didn't have to tell me that you would come up and see me. And be all smiley and winky about it.

And when you realized you had woken up from an unplanned nap, you should have picked up the phone and called me. Instead of texting me to ask if I would still be willing to meet with you another night.

You could have just let it go.

Which, apparently, is what you've done today. But without even a call or a text.

And that is pretty much the first shitty thing you've done. Well, aside from dragging it out.

So, I hope you listen to the voicemail I left you.

And I hope you know that even though you were, supposedly, afraid of hurting me, you didn't.

I may be confused. I may be surprised. But I'm not that sad to see you go. You weren't "the one". And I knew that. But you were a nice guy to practice on for awhile. You were fun. And I liked you.

And, hey, you got me to stop sleeping with the 23-year-old. No, I didn't give him up FOR you. But it was time to give him up before he got hurt (oops?).

Maybe I'd be more upset if I wasn't reminded with increasing clarity just how many blessings there are in my world. If I didn't have this amazing little boy who brings me constant joys. Or if I didn't have amazing and wonderful friends whom I love fiercely and who love me back. Or if I wasn't hearing from Brendan again. Or if I didn't know that I'm fleeing the county in another sleep and won't be back until 2010.

But I do have those wonderful things in my world.

And while I feel this weird sense of unfinishedness (I get to make up words. Deal with it.), I am hoping that a few days away will help to alleviate that.

So, bye, CJ. I'm actually bummed that it ended like this. But I'm not all that bummed that it's ended.

Take care,
RetroMama

Sometimes you CAN go home.

I'm back in my hometown for the holidays. Got here on Sunday and am staying through Christmas Eve.

Just over a week ago, we started planning a mini-reunion. Not like the mini-reunions of old. This would be at a family establishment. My only hope was that my ex-fiancee didn't show up this time.

On Monday, I got to have lunch with my IBFF. She hadn't told anyone she was in town, but she made time to meet me and the kidlet for lunch. I felt touched and honored... And I loved that she asked me about a PostSecret that had been posted a couple of months ago. She recognized the handwriting and had meant to ask if it was mine. And it had been. I loved that. And I love that I can be so candid with her and that she's always on my side. And I got to play with her son. And, shockingly, felt my uterus contract a bit. Weird.

Later that afternoon, another friend took time out of his crazy shopping day to meet me and the kidlet for coffee. We hadn't seen each other since the kidlet was a baby, and I've met his infant son three times. We're making a point of doing that. I got to snuggle his boy, too. And, again. That weird twinge in my uterus. WTF???

Anyway.

That night, heard a rumor that one of the mean girls is getting divorced. And instead of giggling about karma and such (which would have been justified!!!), I just was sad for the effect it will have on her kids. Still waiting for the gloating. I don't think it's coming. I never wished them ill. No matter what anybody thought.

Went holiday shopping with Dad. He bought me a CamelBack. Color me thrilled. Of course when we went to check out, Leon's 9th grade girlfriend was at the register. Only in my world, right???

Then came the mini-reunion. And I walked in the door and there was this crowd in the entry. And there were people there I hadn't seen since graduation. People I hadn't expected to see. People I was thrilled to see.

I had heard a few years ago that one of them thought I didn't like her. Because of something that had happened 20 years ago. I had said at that time that I was so over it. But it was awesome to realize that she's a really cool chick and we had lots to talk about.

It was great to be with these people and that there was no drama. Like, at all. And to realize that even though I have the reputation of drama following me, it wasn't really all me. And that was lovely.

I didn't get enough one-on-one time with anyone who was there. But it was enough of a taste to just make me grateful.

There was a moment when one woman asked why one of the mean girls wasn't there. And I kind of choked on my Dr Pepper. Later she would ask about HRT as well. I did choke that time. But it was funny. And when she asked about the stories, I kept it pretty low-key. Not many details. Just the minimum.

I said something about how I'm not allowed to date guys from high school anymore. And was questioned... Mentioned HRT and Leon. And left it at that. Look at me, not seeking that kind of attention anymore!!

This morning, as I made my coffee and broke up another batch of the magical chocolate-bacon-peanut bark, I reflected about how I'm here in this town and I haven't kissed anybody and I'm totally okay with that. I haven't heard from CJ since the night I got here and I'm mostly okay with that.

And I decided it's best for all involved for me to go ahead and go camping with the boys over New Years. The kidlet keeps running in to hug me and tell me how happy he is that I'm going. And I'm pretty damn grateful that I have a plan and can just be off the grid for a few days.

I've realized that dating completely sucks during the holidays and I'd prefer to not have anything to do with it, honestly. I'll start over again in the New Year. Maybe. LOL.

For now, I'll just enjoy the sound of my son playing a board game in the other room with my dad. And giggle over him singing songs like "Walking Around the Christmas Tree" and "The Twelve Days of Christmas... 'Nine babies dancing!'"

And I'll just continue to bask in the glow that was the Light and Love of old friends who knew me when... And who actually read this thing and remind me of just how far I've come...

Potty Talk.

When I moved out, I knew I needed an apartment with two bathrooms. Having shared a bathroom with two boys for years, I knew that one thing that would be lovely for me would be to have a bathroom of my own. And nobody else would get to pee in it.

CF totally understood. "Yes, I can totally have sex with a guy in my bed, but he can't pee in my bathroom." Uh-uh. The bathroom is mine.

I remember when I was thinking the day would come when I might have sex with Leon... And I kept telling myself I needed to clean my bathroom. Because if I had sex with him, he'd probably stay over and stuff. And I hadn't let anyone stay over. Uh-uh. I have been a "have my way with them and kick them OUT" kind of gal lately.

When I thought Leon would be picking me up from the airport, I was overwhelmed with the idea that I needed to make sure to clean my bathroom before I left town.

But then I didn't. And I told myself that I would make sure I wouldn't invite him to stay if I didn't have a clean (enough) bathroom.

Apparently, that was my little passive-aggressive way to keep me from letting anyone stay. To keep me from letting anyone get close enough to me. I think the clean bathroom almost became a metaphor for my love life.

I had a good excuse in November. I was noveling. I may have vacuumed once during that month. And that's pretty much it. Dishes piled up, laundry too. It's the nature of the beast that is NaNoWriMo.

As soon as December hit, I caught up on the housework. But only the very basic cleaning in the bathroom. Very basic. Certainly not "let someone else go in there" worthy.

The first time the 23-year-old came over, he went off to my bathroom to clean up. And I was pretty close to having a panic attack. Not kidding. Hated the idea of a boy peeing in my bathroom. That was MY space. He didn't belong there. He could put his penis in my vagina, but was NOT allowed to pee in my toilet. I directed him to the other bathroom the next time. And the brat still tried to make a break for my bathroom on another occasion. I did not allow this.

So, CJ and I had the talk I had decided it was time for. And he answered all of my questions... And then asked me some really good questions. Hard questions. Questions that made me think. And didn't hold a single answer against me. Totally respectful. Asked me if we ended up having sex if I was willing to date him and see where it could go. Or if I wanted no strings attached.

And shockingly, I realized I am open to seeing where it will go. While I'm not ready to be "all in" and be his girlfriend, I'm actually open to moving forward cautiously, but with my heart and eyes wide open.

Weird.

And he asked me out. For Saturday night. And wants to take me someplace that I have always wanted to go. But I haven't. We had already established a date for Thursday. And I thought we would go there then. But he said he wanted to make it Saturday, but still wanted to see me Thursday. And I was flattered and touched.

I cried on the way to work the next day. Because I felt happy. I imagined being out with him on Saturday night, enjoying where we would be, looking at him and being so grateful that he is the one that brought me to that place... And the tears spilled over. I hope I don't actually cry when we're actually there. LOL.

And we're in pretty regular communication. He's not afraid to let me know that he's thinking about me. And he's not afraid to step back and let me do my thing. I am not quite sure how to deal with that. I like it a lot, but it's so unfamiliar to me.

Okay, I wrote that last sentence and my eyes filled with tears. How sad that it's unfamiliar to me for someone to be attracted to me, want to be with me, and yet unafraid to let me kick ass like I do.

Huh. I did not give CJ enough credit.

And we did go out on Thursday. And he got me pretty hot and bothered, but sent me home alone because he didn't want to pass his cold along to me. As we were hugging and (not) kissing outside my car that night, we heard my phone indicate a text. Which I ignored until I got in the car to head home.

Of course it was 23-year-old. Making it clear what he was hoping would happen later.

And I shut it down.

Even though I was desperately aroused. And while I thought I was pretty clear about our little thing being over, apparently it takes a bit longer for this kid to "get it". I tried to be sensitive (yes, okay, perhaps he did have some actual feelings for me. Oops!), but I didn't give in. Even though I'd started drinking Cabernet.

I'm actually giving this loyalty thing a try. Holy wow.

And then it was Friday night. And I did the usual Friday night thing. Hanging out with the Ex and the Kidlet and a small group of friends. Got to snuggle the kidlet and enjoy him.

And then I came home. Dragged all of my purchases up the stairs, while on the phone with CJ. We ended our conversation because I had "things to do".

And what I had to do?

Clean the bathroom.

And I did.

Big-time.

Patience and Trust and a dose of TMI.

I really need to give him a name. So you can keep them all straight. NOF says I need a white board. She's probably not wrong.

So, the guy that stepped up recently... The one whose middle name is Leon's real name. I'm going to call him CJ. Don't ask why. Just go with it.

Anyway. I told SoulMate about CJ and she was all jazzed about him. So was Dr. Tim (aka Therapist). Dr. Tim did remind me to go into this with my eyes open, however. Because if someone seems too good to be true, then he could be a sociopath. Which makes me laugh. Because while CJ does seem pretty great these days, he's far from perfect. Although, he does say the right things. And via text, too.

CJ really stepped it up in the last week or so... I had been pretty sure he was dating someone else, but we hadn't talked about it. And it's not like I really cared, anyway. I was dating someone else. And still communicating with others. Oh, and still fucking the 23-year-old.

Oh, had I not mentioned that?

This kid's not to be confused with the 21-year-old valet. That was a one-time thing. Number deleted right afterward. Gone. Done. He's served his purpose.

But the 23-year-old. Sweet kid. Took him a few tries to get it through his head that he's just a booty call (or whatever you want to call it). But he seems to have gotten that memo. He's someone I had been flirting with for months, and not long after one of the many breaks with Leon, I pretty much spelled it out for him that we should and could hook up. But that is all it would be. And while he's young and sometimes that's frustrating (No, if we already have plans for you to come over at a certain time, you do NOT actually need to do the whole textual foreplay thing. If I say it's happening, I'm a sure thing. Leave me alone until you actually show up at my doorstep. I have other things to do in the meantime), it's been a pleasant experience. Safe, no strings attached, done. It's been enjoyable.

And I know it's finite. When I get serious about someone (or he does), we're done. This is just an amusement in the meantime.

But I didn't exactly expect it to end so soon.

But I feel like I'm on the cusp of something. Something that could be real.

CJ uses words like "respect" and "understanding". And "I don't want you to do something you're not comfortable with..."

Um, and he meant it. Two days after the marathon, he offered to come over and cuddle and give me a massage. And, hey, if he wanted to help me with the aches, I was not about to turn him down (No ice bath and a 5-hour drive makes for sore muscles for longer than usual).

So, he came over. And we talked and cuddled and made out. And there was... touching. And stuff. And I hadn't been waxed in weeks and he didn't seem to care. And then he made me come. Not once, either. And there I was, panting and clinging to him, ready to take him into my bedroom, and he stopped. Said, "You said you didn't want to do anything more tonight, so I'm going to go."

Um, what???? Oh, he didn't leave me hanging or anything. There was lots more hot kissing and fondling and such. But then he went. Because I had told him the day before that I wasn't ready for more. So, he showed the restraint that had flown out my window.

The next day, I ended up getting waxed. Impeccable timing. The good news is that my appointment is in his town. So, I texted him to let him know I would be around with no plans after 6. (This was the day it didn't rain.) He had to work til 7, and needed to stop by his folks'. Didn't want me waiting for him for an hour and a half (too cold), so did I want to get together Friday instead?

And then it turned out that my appointment ran later than I had expected. So, I hung out with my SoulMate and met him for dinner, because he instantly changed his plans a bit to be able to see me.

And we had a great time. And have been in pretty regular contact ever since. And then the texts got a bit naughty again. And I think we need to have a conversation.

I'm pretty sure that the next guy I have sex with is going to be someone who could have (gulp!) relationship potential.

And since I got rid of Leon for good, I find myself, suddenly, open to that.

Holy growth! What happened to the RetroMama who just wanted to fuck younger dudes?

She's actually open to something real.

Which, looking at it with the ClaRiTy distance brings, is NOT something I was actually open to with Leon. I told him that. I told him the last time we spoke that my biggest fear in telling him I loved him wasn't that he didn't feel the same. My biggest fear was that he would tell me he was ready to be together. Not only was I not completely ready, but I knew I'd have some cleaning up to do. I was seeing CJ and Roger at the time... Oh, and I had just opened up communications with someone else. Brendan. Who seems pretty awesome. So, that pressure he felt from me that I was pushing for a relationship was actually all in his imagination.

So, anyway. Back to last week. Starting to think that CJ and I need to have a bit of a talk. The "Are we going to have sex?" talk. And what does that entail? I haven't really asked him the tough questions yet. And, obviously, if he can't handle my questions, I won't go there. Regardless, he's someone I listen to. He tells me stuff in a way that makes me do it. And not a whole lot of people can influence me that way. Well, they can, but not when it comes to things like getting me to write 6000 words in a day. Or icing my knee. Or stay home so that I can get my holiday cards addressed and stuff. He steps back to let me do stuff. It's weird.

But anyway, I know this talk is coming. And I found myself wondering if I would end up being someone's girlfriend. Which I haven't been in quite awhile. I've been keeping my options open. But I'm ready to at least have that talk. And see where it goes.

But, um... Well...

Then there's Brendan. Who is a bit older. And who is funny and charming on the phone and via email. Who totally gets the whole "gratitude" thing I've got going on. And told me to "have a great(ful) day." Holy wow. He kind of gets me. And is open to that.

So, after an amazing night with E (complete with margaritas and flirting with wait staff!), I met up with Brendan at 7:30 for dirty chai. Because he's never had dirty chai and wanted to try it.

Of course, my favorite place is closed until 8:30 on Sundays. So, we decided to go to Starbucks for coffee instead. And after sitting and chatting for nearly two hours, decided to go to breakfast, too. And when we talked about what we had on the agenda for the day, he mentioned that he needed to go to a sporting goods store. Um, my favorite sporting goods store. Like, the store that has become my new playground. I asked if he was going to the one in my town and while that hadn't been his plan, did I want to go to the local one with him? Um, hello?

So, then we went there, too.

And more than 5 hours after our first hug hello, we finally hugged goodbye.

And I feel like I know him better in that first day than I have in six dates with CJ. And Brendan admitted that he hadn't planned to tell me most of what he did. (I get people to tell me stuff. It's part of my charm. ::shrug::). And we made a very tentative plan to see each other toward the end of this week if he's in town. He did tell me he's a guy who takes time to process stuff. And I thanked him for telling me because then I knew to be patient with him.

So, here I am. The day after the amazing date. And I haven't heard from him. NOF told me to be patient. I'm trying.

But I have heard from CJ. And he knows we're going to have a conversation. And that just might be tonight. Via phone. So I don't get distracted. But I did mention how it was strange that I trust him. And he said that I can probably tell he's just looking out for me. And he is. From our first date, he's looked out for me. And while I'm still sensing that he's not THE one, he very well could be A one.

So, this dilemma. It's a delicious one.

But I'm thinking it might be time to drop the 20-somethings. Then again, maybe we could give it one last go before calling it quits?

But I am gearing up for something real. Not necessarily something forever. But something that's reciprocal. And real. I'm ready to give this love stuff a chance.

But which one???

::giggle::

It didn't rain that day.

So, Leon and I made the plan. To do that hard thing for him. And I would be there. And it would be beautiful and heartbreaking and amazing. And then I would say goodbye to him. He didn't know that part, though.

And then he tried to postpone. "It's supposed to rain that day. I think I'll wait to do it until February."

Well, I'm sick of postponing the healing.

So, I said the hard things. I said out loud, "I can't be friends with you. You made me a quitter and my friends don't do that."

He called me out on it, "Why were you going to do this huge emotional thing with me if you don't want to be friends with me?"

"Because it would be my last gift for the man that I love. So that you could move away. And I could let you go knowing that I did everything. I tried."

And we talked a bit further. I said things that I'd written in that letter. Not all of them. But some of them. Enough of them.

And I cried hard for a few moments. Probably didn't help that I was less than 24 hours from having finished my first marathon in 8 weeks. And I was in agony. Physically. So, I just added the emotional turmoil to it and got it all out in one fell swoop.

And then it was done.

And then the most amazing thing happened.... I ended up having the most beautiful week. And wonderful people have stepped into it. And someone I didn't think had potential suddenly turned out to have potential.

And when I told SoulMate "I wasn't hearing from him not because he wasn't interested, but because he wanted me to have the time to succeed...", she said, "Oh, you mean he was stepping back to let RetroMama be RetroMama?"

Huh.

And on that day when I got to spend a beautiful and impromptu 30 minutes with her? That was the day it was supposed to have rained. And it didn't. It was a gorgeous, crisp, clear night. And instead of doing the hard emotional thing, I got to see my SoulMate. And go on a dinner date. :)

I'm done hiding the true me from people. I'm going to be all Gratitude and Light and Love and if that's simply too intense for someone, then they can choose to step away.

Oh, and I decided Roger wasn't the one for me.

And in very un-dramatic fashion, we broke things off.

But the one who stepped back last month? I shall have to come up with a blog name for him. Because he might be sticking around for awhile... Of course, I'm still keeping my options open. Still communicating with and dating others...

But I am me. And I do have something to offer. And it's up to you to accept it or not. Because whether you can handle me or not isn't about me.

And whether I choose to accept you is my choice. And I'm done wasting time on those unworthy. I shall continue to offer the random acts of kindness, and the not-so-random. I will be me. I will live and love and I will BE loved.

It's coming. I can feel it. And I'm finally open to it.

I cut the dead weight. And damn, that feels good.

Clarity is sometimes fun and sometimes painful...

... but it always, apparently, arrives at the moment it's supposed to.

I learned a lot about myself in the last several days.

I took my son on the out-of-state trip we had planned. And I did it. All by myself. And that validation I had been waiting for didn't come from anybody else. I had been waiting for just one person to say, "Yeah, I can imagine that even though it's going to be great, and I totally believe you can do it, but yeah, I can see that it would be scary to do."

Nobody said that to me. But I sure said it to myself. While I appreciate that everybody seems to believe that I kick ass and I take it in stride, there are some scary things that I take on. This was one of them.

Amazingly, upon our return, it was my sister-in-law who stared at me admiringly. I don't think she was impressed about me driving that many hours and that many miles with just me and him. She was impressed by the fact that I took him on a trail... With no handrails. (Again, a moment of clarity right there!) The idea of being responsible for this amazing little human being who was, potentially, inches from plunging nearly a mile to his death. Was absolutely terrifying. And he was scared, too. And he talked about how we were being brave. And I love that he learned that with me. And I explained to him that "courage is not the absence of fear. It's deciding that something else is more important than the fear."

Fuck. Writing that out just now made me realize, once again, that CF was right last night.

Ugh.

So, after this amazing trip, in which we were both total troopers, I pushed it hard to get back last night. CF was in town for the holiday and last night would be my only chance to see her.

So, I did. And over drinks and dinner, I sobbed to her about how I had woken up at 3:30 in the morning on Thanksgiving Day, having imaginary conversations with Leon in my head. And I had written him a letter that night (unsent. Don't worry.) that was somewhat healing for me. But how I have this certainty that it's not quite finished with him. Because of one stupid thing he said to me two months ago. Apparently, I'm supposed to do this one thing. And I got angry. "Why is it that I always have to do what's right for someone else? Why can't I just consider what's in it for me?" And she calmly took it and said, "That's just not who you are."

Ugh. I hate it when people are right about me.

But I hate it more when people are wrong about me.

Which is why I'm so angry with Leon. And, I suppose, Roger, too. He was so sweet the whole time I was gone. Texting me with "hi beautiful". But some stuff has been rubbing me the wrong way. I'm proud of myself for telling him. And he's been taking it in stride. The impression I have of him, though, is of someone that would just let me have my way all the time. And, contrary to popular belief, I actually need someone who will put me in my place every now and then. Take me down a peg.

CF certainly did that last night. Calling me out on stuff. Asking me the hardest questions of all. Making me think. Giving me an assignment.

But doing so with Love and with Laughter.

Sick laughter. Our poor waitress. Who happened to walk up to leave a drink as we were talking about "tossing mommies off the pier". Luckily, she didn't hear us giggling about how "it's all fun and games until somebody's bleeding out on the bathroom floor."

Yep, your RetroMama's a sick, sick girl. And she loves that she has an amazing CF with whom to share that laughter.

Totally worth the all-day drive to get there.

Even if she's got to pull up the damn BGPs again.

Which she's doing now. As she signs off to go get ready for her date with destiny... Or, rather, (hopefully!!! fingers crossed!) with "other guy".

Because, apparently, I have some 'splainin' to do.

I wasn't trying to be a bitch. Honestly.

I'll explain about today, but first I want to make an observation.

Last year. November. Twilight. I went with TF. I had read the first two books at that point and then saw the first movie with TF. I was in the beginning stages of my breakup with HRT. And I was in agony over it.

Last night. November. New Moon. I went with TF. I've read all four books twice (but not recently) and then saw the second movie with TF. I am in the beginning (middle? end? LOL) stages of my breakup with Leon. And I'm in agony over it.

One major difference: I am not broken.

The situation with HRT is so much clearer now... I was such a mess that I was absolutely devastated by that breakup. Hell, I was such a mess that I got involved with that guy in the first place. He said he loved me early on and I totally fell for it. And it hurt so much to lose that. Of course, now I realize it wasn't love. On either of our parts. But it sure felt like it at the time.

And a year later... In the throes of this breakup... With a man I realize I love more and differently than any man I ever have before... And yet... I'm not broken like I was before. I hurt, sure. I cry, sure. (Today's the first day I haven't cried in a week. Mad skillz?) But I know that I am loved. By my friends. By my family. I know that I am worthy. Which, for some reason, a year ago, I doubted. And I do know that Leon loves me. And I'm pretty sure that his intentions for not being with me, while hurtful, are far more noble than HRT's reasons for not being with me.

And then there was today.

I've been somewhat ambivalent about this guy. We'd gone out three times already and decided to get together this afternoon to watch football. I was super-excited about this game and would have gone to watch by myself. Which would have made today turn out far differently, I'm sure.

The last time we had gone out was the day that I had called Leon to ask him to meet me the following week. Because I would be telling him I love him and shit. So, when I didn't particularly enjoy that date, someone told me I had been picking apart this guy because Leon had been on my mind. I wasn't certain that was the truth. But because Leon was an issue that day, I decided to give this guy another chance. Because maybe it was me that made him babble away about movies I'd never seen. And sports teams I don't follow. While I had thought the third date would get to a bit more of the nitty gritty, we didn't do that. And I called him out on it to an extent, but I was told not to give up on him because it could well be my own fault.

So, I met up with the guy for football today. We went to a favorite restaurant of mine and he asked me about New Moon last night. And I started to tell him my thoughts about the movie. And he interrupted me to tell me all about the reviews he'd read. But he hadn't seen the movie and he hasn't read any of the books. And I found that annoying. This morning, TF asked me if he reads. And I said he does, but not the kinds of stuff I read. This gave me pause. I left my husband because he doesn't read. I can't get involved with another guy who doesn't read. I just can't.

And then he was telling me about his evening on Friday night... And while he didn't come out and say it, I was 99% certain he'd been out on a date. Which doesn't bother me. I'm dating other people. But I think he should have come out and said it.

At halftime, the couple sitting near us left the bar and I asked if we could scoot over. That would leave me much closer to the television that was showing my game. So, we moved. And when I went to put my stuff down, this guy puts his hand on the barstool and says "This seat is taken." I stared at him because I was pretty sure he was full of shit, but his delivery was impeccable. We laughed and then sat down.

And this guy was talking to me way more than my date was. I had eaten a late breakfast with TF and her brother so I wasn't starving, but I shared an appetizer platter with my date. And then he got a meal. And then we shared dessert in the final quarter. We each got a drink (mine was cheaper since it was on draft. He drinks margaritas. Only.) and a soda.

So, "other guy" is asking me questions, getting to know me. Trying to draw my date into the conversation, but he wasn't having any of it. I was talking to "other guy", his friend, and the guy on the other side of them who was cheering for my team as well. "Other guy" graduated from my university. "Other guy" has a mom who is a teacher (and taught all over the continent!) and a dad who's a doctor. "Other guy" was quite clever and entertaining.

I kept reaching over to my date, placing my hand on his leg or rubbing his shoulder and he just wasn't responding. (Don't say it's because of "other guy". He'd been that way since I'd walked in.)

That was when I started wondering if it would be bad form for me to try to connect with "other guy". Exchange numbers or something. Not in front of my date, of course, but still. Something. Because I'm pretty sure my date isn't "the one". And I'm pretty sure he knows that too.

So, then I was really trying to ignore "other guy" because someone told me not to search for madness, heartbreak, and despair.

And then the bill came. And I offered to split it, fully expecting my date to insist upon paying more since he ate way more than I did. But, no. He let me split it. Which wasn't a big deal, but kind of the nail in the coffin for me. (He paid on our first date, and we've gone dutch, mostly, since. Or he's used gift cards to pay for most of whatever we did.)

Pretty sure "other guy" saw what happened. And he kind of made a face towards my date. Who didn't even notice because he was too enamored with the games.

As we got ready to go, my date went to wait for me outside as I went to the bathroom one last time. And "other guy" was totally going to the bathroom, too. He said, "I'm not following you," and I said, "Bummer."

I pee really fast, so I kind of dawdled, hoping I would run into him when I left. With my date outside, I could have been totally discreet.

But when I came out, I couldn't see "other guy". I walked slowly toward the exit and turned around at the last moment, and that's when I saw "other guy" walking out of the restroom. Crap. I didn't know where my date was, and I didn't know if he would have seen me already, so I couldn't exactly go back inside.

So, I met up with my date, and that's when "other guy" and his buddy walked out and passed us. We totally made eye contact, but there was nothing I could do. I walked with my date to his car so he could get a sweatshirt, and then he walked me to mine. He hugged me and kind of kissed me, told me he would totally distract me but that I needed to go home and write (not this blog. My novel. LOL). I'm just kind of thinking he's all talk and stuff, though. And I'm kind of over it.

And maybe it was bad form to start talking to another guy while I was on this date, but a connection is a connection. And I really enjoyed talking to that guy. Far more than I've enjoyed talking to this one. On any of our four dates.

::sigh::

Back to the drawing board, I guess. Well, I do still have a couple of other irons in the fire. Moving on...

Out of that little pond...

I came across a photo on my computer tonight... It's a group shot of a bunch of high school pals... And I studied it for a moment before I did some counting...

There are ten people in the picture.

I have kissed five of them. (And only three were boys. LOL)

And I'm in it, too. Which leaves only four in the photo whose tongues haven't been in my mouth.

I guess I really made my way around that crowd. Shit.

SoulMate was right to give me grief about my "little pond".

Well, I'm jumping into the ocean now. I haven't kissed a boy from high school in more than a month.

And while I am enjoying kissing other boys (men!), I am realizing that my town isn't such a big pond, either. Haha.

Things are about to get interesting....

Ooh, bop, bop bop!

Yet another colleague stopped me and said, "You are always just so happy!"

Someone who knows what's been going on came in and hugged me right away and then stepped back, surprised. "Wow, you seem like you're in a good mood."

I don't know what it is, but I continue to smile. I continue to live. There's an ache in my chest, but it's not that bad. Denial, perhaps? Or perhaps it's just that I have this certainty that all will be well in my world. I am clinging to those harsh words spoken two days ago. I am clinging to the reminder that Leon isn't brave enough to try. That the woman who did something horrific to him is someone with whom he had a conversation a week ago. That he said, "I can't deal with this right now." This, meaning... Well, me, I guess. Because his life is, supposedly, so overwhelming that having a kickass chick tell him she loves him is too much to handle.

Everybody tells me he'll regret this. That he'll come crawling back at some point.

But I don't actually want that for him. I love the man. Flaws and all. I don't want to be with him. But I do love him. With something in me that hasn't ever been touched before. But when you love someone, you don't want them to hurt. You want them to be happy and to know beauty and Light. I hate this certainty that he's going to die alone. I don't want that for him. I want him to know Love. I don't want him to look back and regret that he lost me. I really don't.

I am grateful that he knows I love him. I am grateful that he knows I am a good person and that this love is pretty pure. I am grateful that he loves me enough to let me see how fucking flawed he is and how I am better off without him. I am grateful to know that I now know that I have given it my all. I tried. I will live knowing that I truly tried.

And then today... When I bravely went off by myself for my follow-up for my little skin cancer... After a wonderful half-hour with two of my former students. High school freshmen, now, they've grown and matured. These young men took time out of their lives to come hang out. And it was cool to measure the teacher I am now against the one they had... Because it was another reminder of how far I've come.

Just before I got to the doctor's office, I posted an update. And got responses right away. One of which was sending Light and Love, but gleeful about how her boyfriend was visiting from far away. And how was that for Clarity? And clarity hit. Hard. She's got a man who loves her and is willing to travel many miles and many hours to be with her. And the man who loves me ran screaming in the opposite direction just two days ago. My cry-free streak was broken in that moment.

Ugh.

But then I found out I'm still cancer-free. Which totally rocks.

And I started to drive home... And this song came on the radio... "Big Yellow Taxi" by Counting Crows and Vanessa Carlton.

And there's this whole part about "Don't it always seem to go, you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone..."

And it hit me.

Um, no. It doesn't go that way. Because I absolutely do know what I've got. Long before it's gone.

I don't live with regret. Even little shit I think I regret, I take action to rectify it. Like I regretted that I allowed someone to stop me from shaving my head for my mother. So now I'm embarking on this huge thing that will not only result in a Bald Retromama, but it will raise awareness and funds to cure cancer. And I'll get to look around my world and see all kinds of baldies.

But I really am not the kind of person who doesn't know what she's got. Maybe that's why I have had so much trouble letting go. Because I know more than anyone what I've got. And I've been afraid to lose it.

So, right now, I will hold onto this gift of anger and disgust. Because I had this Love. And someone broke it. But I will never have to look back and wonder "what if?" I chose to love him... And he chose to be fearful and embarrassed and cowardly. Sure, he loved me. But his love wasn't the kind of love to move mountains.

But mine is.

And one day I'll move another mountain. And one day it will be reciprocated. And I will be happy in love with someone else. But in the meantime, I will keep crying. Grieving in Real Time. And dwelling in the possibility of the next thing...

Which will be something that I will grasp with all of me... And I will know exactly how precious it is... While it is right there in front of me... Not while it's walking away.

All in good time...

Timing is everything.

I am a hopeful girl. I live in Reality but dwell in Possibility.

One of those stupid notecards had a sentence on it: Tell the truth.

And when I saw that sentence, I knew what I needed to say. But I didn't say it.

Later I would question why I didn't tell him that one thing. Because that one thing would remove that one obstacle he kept insisting was there. Was I sabotaging us? Was I not telling him that one thing because if I removed that obstacle then I'd actually have to try to be with him? Or was it that he truly didn't need to know? What was my motivation for that?

I got myself pretty worked up on Tuesday about that one thing. I had this sick feeling in my stomach about it. I just knew that I should have told him. But could I fix it? And would it make any difference?

So, I called Leon. And he took my call, which I find surprising still.

I told him I would tell him the truth, but could he tell me first if my impression of our situation was correct? Because I had gotten the impression that he's done. That he's not even willing to entertain the idea of a possible future down the line. "Yeah, I'm leaning that way."

So it shouldn't have mattered when I told him the truth. The thing I'd kept from him for two months.

I apologized for not having told him sooner, but that it should prove that his excuse was ridiculous (I don't think I used that word to him. But it's the word I hear in my head now. LOL).

He told me it was okay.

And then instantly came up with another excuse. This time about how we're incompatible. That his lifestyle wouldn't be okay for me. Um, WTF? "Yesterday I told you a bunch of reasons why I love you for who you are, and now you're deciding that we're incompatible?"

He went on to tell me that "I would have to make major changes to my lifestyle to be with you and I just don't see that happening anytime soon."

It got a little escalated. It ended with apologies from both of us and quickly getting off the phone. His last words were, "I'll talk to you later."

And I pretty much lost it when we got off the phone. AD got the initial breakdown.

Later CF called me... And I explained to her what had happened over the previous twenty-four hours. At one point she said, "You know, he'll figure it out. He'll miss you in a few years, when he grows up."

And I stopped her and said, "He's thirty-five years old. This is not a man who is going to grow." And I told her to hold on while I wrote that down. And now I have a piece of paper on my desk that reads, "This is not a man who is going to grow."

That will stay there until I don't need it anymore.

And then I went to Therapy. And glared at my Therapist. And used up half a box of kleenex.

And told him by the end of our session that "I'm grateful for this pain. Because if I hadn't gone through this, I never would have known that he loves me. And I heard him say it. More than once. And I'm glad I did this now instead of waiting until the new year. Because now I can start healing now..."

And that's precisely it. When I heard him come up with yet another excuse the moment I poked holes in the original one, I realized that this is a man who is so fearful of loving someone that he will sabotage it before it even starts. And this is a man who is still communicating with someone who has done nearly as horrific things to him as HRT did to me. And someone who will invite that drama into his world is not someone whom I should be around.

Sadly, I lost respect for him in those moments. And that's not something he's going to have the chance to get back.

But in the midst of all of this pain, there has been so much joy... A colleague went out of her way to comment about how happy I am all the time. And today I told her that it meant a lot that she had said that yesterday because I had actually just had my heart broken into a thousand pieces. And she hugged me. And that was so great.

And I'm planning my next races and found out that one of them involves an extra day in which I can finally get the tattoo (maybe two?!?!) that I've been dreaming about...

And Roger texted me the very next morning to say "good morning"...

And my students are amazing... One of them gave me an antenna ball with a football helmet from my favorite team. This is a kid I had thought didn't even like me. And he's giving me presents. And displaying integrity by pointing out that his last test was graded incorrectly and he actually had earned a lower grade than the one he'd been assigned.

Wow. Bet that kid's not gonna grow up and run away from the woman he loves. Maybe he'll even stop smoking for her... Or at least give her the chance to decide if she wants to take on helping him with that.

Oops. Projecting again. Sorry. Haha.

But after last weekend and these last few days, I'm realizing that, once again, everything happens the way it's supposed to. And I am grateful for not having delayed this heartache. I'm supposed to be experiencing it right now...

Hmmm... Maybe one of my characters is going to go through a horrific breakup.

Haha.

Yin and Yang and Shit.

Well, that was an entertaining weekend.

I got to hang out in my hometown, celebrating Thanksgiving early with my family. A good friend joined us and it was all good.

Of course, I had to stop in my gramma's town first. And we went to Target. Where I ran into an old friend. A FB friend. But one I hadn't seen in years. We made plans to hang out the following day, which was exciting.

And then as I was about to check out, I get a text from a good friend halfway across the country. Fucking StalkerChick is at it again. In a big way. Ugh. But I pretty much just laughed it off. I found it entertaining.

And then the big dinner and such... And an email from a new guy... Which was intriguing...

And then it was Sunday... And I'm texting the new guy (Shall we call him Roger?) all day long... And meeting up with old friends in a favorite hangout... Oh, and seeing my ex-fiance.

Wait. What? Yeah.

Good ol' SB.

Holy fuck.

I see a friend who actually just happened to be there, didn't intend to meet up with us. And I walked over to say hello to him and I see SB sitting about 8 feet away. I turn my back and ask, "Um, is that who I think it is?" Another friend approached, who confirmed that yes, it was SB. "Oh, do you know him?"

Ha. "Um, I was engaged to him!" (Ish. But that's not the issue. There was a ring. He put it on my finger when I moved away to keep me. Ugh. Anyway.)

So, the first friend made the executive decision that we would sit where I wouldn't have to look at SB.

And an hour later when I decided to just go say hi to him, my friends stopped me.

Everything happens for a reason. And enough things fell into place afterward that make that so clear to me. I wasn't meant to talk to him that day, for sure.

But it was funny. Because only in my sitcom life would something like that happen. I spent 12 years worrying about running into him. And only in the last three did I stop looking over my shoulder for him. And that's when I saw him. I was glad I looked adorable.

And then today.

The day I'd been waiting for since Thursday.

When my therapist had told me I needed to have a sitdown with Leon. Face-to-face. (Shut up, D. My blog. My story. And it was therapist-assigned.)

Apparently, I was supposed to tell him I love him.

Fuck.

I had notecards. Because this time I wasn't going to remember something afterward and kick myself for not saying it. And I certainly didn't want to get off-track and start babbling. Like I had when I'd gotten his voicemail.

He called me back and left a message (I didn't answer because I was on a date. I know.), agreeing to see me today.

So, we spoke Friday and made the arrangements.

Which made me so damned grateful for a fun-filled, entertaining weekend. Because it kept my mind off of things. Well, except when I told my dad about it on Saturday night. I was worried that I sounded so stupid. "Yeah, so I love this guy who I totally shouldn't be with, but it's making me crazy that he doesn't know. So, I'm going to tell him. And it won't change anything except that he'll know."

So, imagine my surprise when he told me he'd already known. Oh, and that he loves me too. But that even when two people love each other that doesn't necessarily mean they should be together. (Um, I already knew THAT part. Eesh.) And he was surprised I didn't know he loves me. Hadn't he told me before? (Um, no. He'd used the word but not in the middle of "I" and "you". The thing that sucks the most is that the reason he's giving me for not being with me is something so fucking ridiculous it makes me sick. So, here he is telling me that he loves me and so he can't be anything but my friend or all in. He respects me too much to date me casually. Which is fine. But I actually lost quite a bit of respect for him today. Because as much as he says he's growing up, I think it's really fucking immature to hold something against someone that happened long before we loved each other. Get the fuck over it.

So, when we hugged quickly and started to say goodbye, I was pretty certain it was over. Done. That's it. I'd told him that I expected nothing. I ask for nothing. Just that he knows. And he does know. I told him I would get over it. That I love him but that those feelings will go away. That I will love and I will be loved. By someone who wants to be with me. And I thought that was it.

So, I didn't quite understand what he meant when he said he was leaving with lots of thinking to do. Um, what's there to think about? You've already decided.

Whatever. I'm going back to my "let's not talk til after the new year, okay?" thing. Starting the moment that door closed behind him.

That's when I sat down and cried for about five minutes. Hard. And let my friends know that I was ready to go out and watch some MNF.

And Roger and I were texting back and forth and I told him where I was and did he want to join us?

And he did.

And it turns out, he's adorable. And a gentleman. And a really good guy. And one who's genuinely interested in me. And when I told him about how I want to shave my head, he asked me about the background story, and when I told him why I didn't do it back when I'd wanted to, he said, "But I think that would have been really cool!"

Later, IP gushed about him. I don't think IP has ever liked any guy for me. Even my husband. So it's kind of a big deal that she likes this one.

And yet it's a bigger deal that *I* like this one.

Damn, it's been a roller-coaster day.

Goodnight.

What did I do to deserve this?

This being the blessedness that is my world.

Beautiful things are happening... I'm in the middle of writing my second novel. And my kids are totally helping me with it. It's amazing. I love everything about my job. Including chaperoning the dance this afternoon. Good times.

In the last two days, I've bitten bullets. And it's all turning out favorably. Why aren't these people saying no to me?

I went to my principal for one thing and ended up taking on another.

That bridge I burned in July? The one I described as burned to the point where no phoenix could ever rise from those ashes?

Yeah, that bridge.

Well, I needed a favor. And that burned bridge spanned a space between me and the person I really hoped would step up. I felt slightly guilty about asking for this favor when I'm not willing to offer my friendship or anything like that. The Ex told me I'm just using him, and that it's not okay.

I shrugged and said, "The worst he can do is say no."

So, I sent the email. And I was very clear about my reasons for contacting him at this point and that I would completely understand if he didn't want to help.

And the next day, he responded. Not only did he respond, but he promised to help me.

Why? Perhaps it's because it is a mutually beneficial arrangement. He does stand to gain something from this. Or maybe it's because he hopes we can be friends again. Whatever his motivation is, the fact of the matter is that he's decided to help me. And while I probably don't deserve it, I really do appreciate that he is willing to do so.

And then... The TheRaPy.

Oy.

TheRaPist called me out on something that left me distinctly uncomfortable. Because my instincts have been screaming at me, and my stubbornness has put in the earplugs. I've been off-balance. And he told me that a conversation must be had... "um, can I send an email?" No. "How about a phone conversation?" Yeah, no.

A face-to-face.

With someone whom I wasn't planning to see for quite awhile longer.

And so I made the phone call to set up a face-to-face. And left a stupid, babbling voicemail.

But, apparently, that was well-received as well.

Because I'm getting that face-to-face.

And soon.

Gulp.

I think I accidentally washed my notecards. Yes, I'm going into this with notecards. Because I don't want to be kicking myself for days afterwards, remembering all the things I'd meant to say and didn't. Nope, I'm going to be prepared.

And for the first time in weeks, I feel like I've got my zen back. Because no matter how this turns out, I'll know that I said everything I needed to say. And even if I end up brokenhearted, that will be okay. Because I'll know that I tried. With all of me.

That said, I've been dating. A really nice guy. Three dates in eight days. He really likes me. And that feels good. I'm approaching this very cautiously.

But when I gave Fred his birthday brownies today, he said the nicest things to me. That I am a beautiful woman. That any man would be lucky to be with me. That I am kind and sweet and thoughtful.

So, maybe I do deserve for these two people to decide to be good to me. And maybe I should stop second-guessing it and just breathe. Take it for what it is. I know I'll pay it forward somehow.

Monday's Perspective.

It made sense today.

Leon and I get along too well. We never actually had a bad date. It always ended on a high note. It was when we weren't together that he'd get inside his own head and freak out about it.

Fuck that.

I'm putting other irons in the fire...

And, I solemnly swear I am up to no good at this moment.

::grin::

I've nearly made it through today...

It was a spectacularly shitty week. Well, most of it, anyway.

After I posted the last entry, I spent the rest of the day in some pretty serious self-talk. That I deserve better than Leon. I deserve a guy who can acknowledge that I kick ass and can appreciate it, instead of letting it frighten him off. I deserve a man who will make the effort with me. I am worth the effort.

I knew I'd be seeing Leon that night and I was ready for it. I knew that we had another date lined up for a couple of days later, and after that I could be done for awhile... But I would follow through with what I'd already committed.

So, I did. And seeing him on Saturday night was liberating... Realizing that I didn't want anything more with him. I had it under control. And that was the night, of course, that he showed me I matter to him. He hugged me in front of a crowd. He was solicitous and attentive toward me. He introduced me to his friends... And when he walked me to my car, we just talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. And he grabbed me and hugged me hard and kissed me... Not once, but twice.

And I left smiling. Knowing that he is not unaffected by me. I felt like I finally had the upper hand, and while I don't like playing games, this felt good.

I spent the next day working on my profile for an online dating site.

Because I meant it when I said I was going to be done with Leon.

And a few days later, we went on the date we'd been planning for more than a month. And it was AMAZING. Of course, he broke up with me during the long car ride to our destination. Telling me he's not ready for a relationship, etc... I asked him why he was telling me this. Did he think I was pushing for one? Because I was working on this online dating thing... I wanted to be clear with him that I'm not the one putting pressure on him. I told him that one day he'd realize I kick ass and that I knew that I deserve more than he'd been willing to give...

Then my son called. And I spoke to him and then asked to speak to his dad. Because The Ex was seeing a surgeon that night to schedule a surgery. And I was kind to him. And when we hung up, Leon said, "I hope you and your husband can work things out..."

Um, WTF?!?!? Yeah, I guess it would be easier for him if I got back with my Ex because then he'd never have to actually take a risk with me. What the Fuck Ever.

So then we got to our destination... And he introduced me to his friend's parents... And then we connected with NOF and her family... She whispered, "How are things going?" And I laughed and said, "Oh, we broke up again on the way down here!" She said, "Wow, that's awkward..." And I laughed again and said, "No, it's actually not..." Because it wasn't... I was still totally comfortable with him... And then I didn't feel bad about eyeing anybody else.

And then we proceeded to have an amazing evening... He was totally taking care of me... Making sure I was liquored up appropriately... Keeping his arm around me... Paying for everything... Asking me if I needed anything every time he left me... Putting his hand on my leg...

Later, we went to a bar where his friends were hanging out... He warned me he would bum a cigarette from someone... "Knock yourself out. We're not going to be kissing tonight..." He introduced me to his friends... One of his friends kept telling us to stay over, but Leon was very good about making sure I would be back at work on time the next morning...

We did end up staying at his friend's house... And he held me on the couch and we slept all tangled up with each other... His hand down the back of my pants, and my hand up under his shirt on his chest... And we just fit.... I was drunk enough that if he hadn't passed out when he did, things may have progressed... But everything works out the way it's supposed to... And sleeping in each other's arms was all that was meant to happen that night...

Our alarms went off at 4:00 and we stumbled outside into the darkness... He held my hand and told me that I was a good influence... That he hadn't ended up smoking the night before... He kept his hand on my leg the entire drive home... Even while I slept... And when we got to my apartment, he walked me in, told me he'd had a great night, hugged me, kissed me and said, "Much Love..."

And then he was gone.

And I was okay with that. Because I'd already decided days earlier that we would be done after that night.

And then my week got shot to hell. The Ex scheduled his surgery during a time that was extremely hectic for me. There was crying. I was trying so hard not to add any stress to him that I took it all upon myself, and it was very stressful, very painful.

And then he went in for his surgery... And I waited, anxiously, for the phone call that he was okay.

And that phone call came. He was fine. I brought the kidlet to visit him that night... And yes, there was a part of me that thought for about five seconds that maybe he would have the revelation that sometimes comes after a life-threatening experience. Oh, and he was sweet and thankful... For keeping him on my health insurance.

It was all I could do to keep the kidlet from hearing me cry on the way home... Silent tears ran down my cheeks... Here was the man I'd promised to love, honor, and cherish for the rest of my life, lying in a hospital bed... And even though he knows I'm damn good at the hospital thing, he didn't want me.... So, then I started crying about Leon... Why the fuck didn't he want me, either?

It was a bad night. D and E saw me crying via Skype, and they were completely done with Leon. D said it wasn't fair of Leon to break up with me and then proceed to have a 12-hour relationship with me. Sadly, I felt somewhat validated when he said that. Because I'd felt like Leon was being so great to me that night, and it had been pretty confusing that his actions were pretty different from what his words had been...

I spent the next morning at the hospital with The Ex... And, apparently, I got to be witness to his worst two hours of the entire experience. He was in agony. He was getting up for the first time. He'd been scared to cough because it would hurt, but he needed to get the crap out of his lungs. So, I did what I do. I was the advocate. Asking questions, getting his needs met. I was a force to be reckoned with. And I helped to get him out of bed. And helped get him ready for his first foray out of his room. And then he wanted to pee... It is strangely intimate to hold up a man to whom you were married for many years as he places all of his weight on you and you watch to see if he can pee. Out of a penis you haven't seen in many, many months...

And I hated to leave him when I did... It had taken a lot out of him... But I had to get to work... And this time he was much more grateful. And he'd introduced me as his wife to two different people... Which, technically, I am... And then I left... And I pulled up the BGPs and called his mother... And his sister... And I made it okay to talk to them. Because that's how I roll.

And then I got through my day... Spent my lunch hour with a couple of colleagues with whom I'd never really socialized... And told them the short version of my "date" with Leon a few days earlier... And said, "Yeah, I need a boyfriend right now like I need a hole in the head..."

Later that evening, I would get a text from Leon... The guy who doesn't text... "Hope all is well." Um, well, it's not. So, how do I respond to that?

I don't.

Until the next morning. When I wake up and realize that it's a very, very significant day. In a bad way. This year was the first year I hadn't dreaded it for weeks, though. And I was strangely calm about it... Although, the kidlet didn't oblige and had a minor meltdown that morning. After drying our tears (yes, OUR tears. LOL), we walked out the front door... And there was a beautiful butterfly... And all was well again...

But as I pondered, I realized that it wasn't fair for Leon to randomly text me at this point. That I truly need some space this time... It's not fair for him to act like he likes me and then break up with me every chance he gets. I know he likes me. But he has fears... And I fear... I have fears... And you know what I do with those fears??? I give them the proverbial finger and crush them...

Oh, I'm scared of heights.... When I was running 50 miles, I had to run across bridges that spanned a river... And many of the bridges had no hand-rails... And there was a portion of that course that had a frickin' CLIFF on one side of the narrow trail... And even though I had to talk to myself, "You are sure-footed... You know exactly where to place your foot for maximum hold and maximum safety" I did it. Because I refuse to let fear rule...

Even when it comes to love... Because while I may end up crying and hurting later, I know I'll get through the pain, eventually... And the joy could very well end up outweighing the pain. To me, it's worth the risk.

But I can't respect someone who's paralyzed with fear... Especially when he pushes away this awesome chick who doesn't want anything more than being able to enjoy their time together. I'm not even CLOSE to being "all in", so I can't imagine why he keeps saying he's not ready for that. Because if he said he wanted to be "all in", I'd probably be the one running right now!

But I wouldn't have minded being able to go out and have a good time together. Because that's what we always did. Always. Never did we have a bad date. Not once. It was only comfortable and fun.

But anyway.

On that day... When I found out The Ex was coming home... (I wasn't thrilled that they were pulling out a chest tube and then sending him home a few hours later)

With plans changing, once again, I wouldn't be getting my gooey chocolate cake that day.

And, suddenly, I was just sick of it.

I called Leon. He asked how my week had been. And I told him it had been spectacularly shitty. And that part of that was because of him. And that I needed to not hear from him for awhile. That I understand he's just trying to "be a good friend", but that it's a little too confusing for me right now and can we just back off?

He apologized for everything (but tried to tell me he "wasn't being a boyfriend" that night. Uggh. Whatever. Okay, so you treat all your friends that way? Saying "sweetie, honey, baby"? Keeping an arm around them or a hand on them all night? Snuggling on the couch? Paying for everything? Huh. Because we've been friends for many years, and you'd never been like that before with me. Whatever.)... But I'm glad for some breathing room.

Although it really fucking hurts.

And I've been in a funk for days, just trying to process... The Ex is well enough to have the kidlet with him, and I have had a rough few days... Lots and lots and lots of crying.

And then my cousin called me and she asked if we could get together today... All I had to do was make it until she got here...

And I had a great time with her... We laughed... I cried...

And at one point, she asked me... "What do you love about Leon?"

And at first I said, "I feel safe with him..."

She said, "That's about you... What do you love about him?"

And it took me a moment. And I hoped I would realize that it wasn't him. That I don't have any reason to feel this way.

But then I started listing things...

I love how passionate he is about what he does... I love how he lives within his means... I love that he eats things I don't and is willing to share those things with me... I love that he cooks... I love that he has a sense of humor... I love that he talks about tough things that most guys shy away from... I love that he takes things in stride... That when some drunk assholes threw something at his car the other night, he just waved them on ahead and didn't even consider starting anything with them... I love the way his body feels when it's tangled up with mine... I love the way he smells... I love the way he says my name when he's speaking to me... I love that he is polite and respectful... I love that when he's going to be five minutes late, he calls... I love that he is a man of his word... When we do make a date, he always follows through... I love that when I ask him questions, he answers me... Even when it's hard... I love that he doesn't read my blog.

Oh, don't worry... There are loads of things I DON'T love about Leon.

Like how fearful he is of love.

At least I know where I stand with myself...

And I know him well enough to know that he is going to respect this "breathing room" as he called it.

Which gives me some time... Several weeks to grieve... Several weeks for me to explore other options.... And maybe he'll miss me while I'm gone from his world... Or maybe he won't... And maybe I'll come to a place where I won't miss him, either...

Huh.

I haven't cried since I started typing... That's refreshing.

I know this post will piss some of you off. And you'll just have to deal with it. This is what it is and I'm dealing with it. In as kick-ass a way as I can.

Now to get back to the chores that have been piling up because, apparently, laundry and dishes don't take a vacation even when your world comes crashing down.

You've come a long way, baby...

It was nearly noon when I realized what today was.

One year ago, today, I ran through an airport to throw my arms around HRT for the first time in three months. There were photos taken of us that day... We couldn't stop staring at each other... Touching each other... We would make that particular city ours... I would take it back as my own when I went back there several months later. Because what I didn't know was just how awful he was that weekend... In the weeks following what seemed like such a magical time, he would reveal himself to be the thief, cheat, and liar that he truly was. It took me many months to heal from all that he brought to my world. And after that weekend, I would never see him again.

But on this day... When I realized that today marked one year since that day... It hit me once again just how different my world is... How blessed I am that he is not in it.

One week ago today, I was in the middle of my first 50-mile trail run. And I was kicking ass.

And here I am, a week after accomplishing the hardest thing I've ever done (except for birthing my son. No, actually, probably including that. LOL!), and I'm feeling good.

Physically, I feel fairly recovered from that brutal trek through the wilderness. Okay, I've still got some numbness in one toe (which is quickly turning into fairly excruciating pain. LOL) and I'm going to lose a toenail. (I got a pedicure this afternoon. That poor little pinky toe is BLACK.)

Emotionally, I'm still not quite ready to blog about that experience.

And in the five days since I've been home, I've been through the emotional wringer. Leon's back in the picture (shut up, you guys!), and that's got all kinds of confusion written all over it. The Ex is dealing with some fairly major health issues right now. And, of course, I'm stepping up, just like I always do. Which makes him all kinds of grateful and shit. Which, again, throws all kinds of confusion all over everything. And throws all of my plans over the next several weeks into limbo, what with him not knowing when he's being admitted to the hospital and such.

Ugh.

But when I realized what today is, it just reminded me how much ass I've kicked in the last year.

And I got a text this morning that called me a "marathoner... Not just of miles but of life too. Hills and valleys, ups and downs, laughter and tears, joy and pain. But always victorious."

So, on this day, I am once again reminded to be grateful for the worst person to ever enter my world. Because maybe if he hadn't, I wouldn't be where I am today. Or maybe I'd be where I am today, but open to someone even worse who could hurt me worse than even he could.

So, here I am... A bit more cautious in my dealings with men... Not quite as trusting with my heart...

But with less than 6 days until what used to be the worst day of my year, I know that I will make it.

Because I am surrounded by so much Light and so much Love... I have managed to prove myself as a Friend to those who are worthy (and probably still some who will prove otherwise. LOL)... And I have welcomed the Friendship of so many who continue to bless my world...

So even thought those first months were agonizing, I am so grateful that I moved through it in Real Time instead of pushing it aside. Because now I can stand proud and grateful for who I've become and who I am becoming.