My six months are up.

Blanche had imposed the "no boys for six months" rule when I moved out.

And, amazingly, I did it. I went six months with no dating, no kissing, no sex, nothing.

And it was good. Really. I really got to know myself during this time... I got settled into my place. I spent amazing time with my son. I made new friends (and lost a few)...

I've become the person I think I was trying to be for so long, but couldn't. Because I needed to be in this place, with these rules.

It wasn't always easy. There were a few lonely times. But more "missing my son" times than "wishing I had a significant other" times. There were moments when I hoped my husband and I might reconcile... And excruciating moments when I realized it's not going to happen.

I'm still navigating this path towards my future as a whole woman... And finding the balance between the "Zen RetroMama" and the "Fun RetroMama." Because I've been told that they are not one and the same.

There has been a cautious growth in my relationship with my cousin. I was thrilled when she and her family made the trip into the City so that I could meet her baby boy. And it was beautiful to see that we could so easily fall back into the banter at which we'd always excelled. And it was beautiful to realize that she's been on this similar journey of self-awareness.

I've focused more on my goals. I've set some major ones. And I've reached some major ones.

I've become much more adept at "letting go". And I've been much quicker to stand up for myself and my beliefs. And quicker to not waste time with those who will not be a valuable member of my world. And quicker to acknowledge the value of those who will be.

And, suddenly, I'm able to talk to men without having panic attacks. Okay, probably not suddenly. It's been a process. But I can now have a conversation with a man without calling CB and crying about how to handle the attention. Because, yes, I was that girl. And not that long ago.

But now, I'm this different person.

And, yes. I'm dating.

Whoa.

I've been out on a couple of "first dates". Which were, surprisingly, wonderful.

And even a "second date". Which was, not surprisingly, but surprising AND wonderful.

And I'm being honest.

Explaining that my son is my priority, and that I'm enjoying dating, but am not certain I'm ready to become sexually intimate with someone.

Realizing that while I do kick ass and am not taking anybody's shit anymore, I'm still vulnerable. And I'm not ready to give my heart (or my body) to anybody at this point.

And realizing that I am choosing to be around people who respect that. And that I am attracting people to me who respect that.

And trusting myself. And trusting those around me.

This has probably been the tamest six months of my adult life. But I have learned the most valuable lesson of all: Patience.

I'm ready for the next challenge, the next phase. I'm excited about what the next six months will bring.

First and foremost: Kicking cancer's ass.

But living in the meantime. And savoring every moment.

Doesn't everyone celebrate Thanksgiving in March?

And all because CB went to Ikea on Friday and asked if I needed anything...

A few of you may know that I've been wrestling with my belief system for awhile now. What you may not know is that this ended up being one of the issues in the divorce (or the divorce-ish thing I've got going on)... When I admitted I'd been following some of the science blogs (why does that word "admitted" seem like a confession of guilt?), and that many of them are written by fairly militant atheists, my husband started teasing me about reading the "satanic blogs".

I count Einstein and Galileo among my heroes. I doubt the existence of God as an all-knowing, all-powerful being (I can hear the gasps of horror from here. I can hear the click of the "delete" button...).

And yet I believe in Angels. I believe in SoulMates. I believe in the Universe and Energies making things happen... As my SoulMate said to another friend today, "Careful. This one manifests stuff like you wouldn't believe..." I call it my mad skillz. Because I do believe that I have the power to make stuff happen... Not sure about Fate... I believe there are multiple Fates and that people have the power to change their futures based on their own decisions.

But I do believe in that stuff. And I don't know if there's a religion that embodies all of that.

Anyway.

If CB hadn't thought to ask if I needed anything from Ikea, maybe today wouldn't have happened.

But it did.

Ten miles with my girlz yesterday... ClaRiTy all over the place. Realizing that maybe the worthy one I made dinner for last weekend isn't necessarily worthy of anything more than that. Back to Liz Gilbert and the EPL...

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

Oy, with the ClaRiTy, already!

Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. I keep saying I'm at a point in my life where I'm not willing to take on that big of a challenge within a relationship.

So, stop.

And I don't want a relationship right now. TheRaPist keeps telling me that Blanche wasn't necessarily right. That it's okay for me to date now. To take it slow, but dating is okay. Spending time with someone is okay.

And I realized that I want to go out to dinner. I've said it before and I'm putting it out into the Universe. I actually really want to go to dinner with someone that I won't necessarily want to see again. I want to know what it's like to go out and spend time with someone and NOT necessarily fall in love and make it into something more than it is.


Just... Dinner. Out.

Anyway.

I was thrilled to get my boy back last night, and we had been contemplating a Disney day, but I knew we needed to connect with CB to get my Ikea goodies...

And then as my boy snuggled with me in my bed, my phone rang, and it was my SoulMate, inviting me to a somewhat impromptu Thanksgiving meal at her house if I was in the neighborhood (because I'd mentioned that last week)... She has had family in town and they decided to do the whole turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes thing. And did we want to join them?

Realizing I could kill all kinds of birds with this stone, we blew off the Disney thing and decided to go the Thanksgiving route. The kidlet thought it was hysterical to celebrate Thanksgiving in March. But five bucks says he remembers it forever.

I was thrilled that TF decided to join CB to meet us, and we spent a very enjoyable hour just talking, eating, laughing our asses off (The kidlet thought a better name for the Snuggie would be the shwanket, which had TF and me crying with laughter at the table!), and just enjoying each other's company...

After searching (nearly fruitlessly) for a table, we headed over to see the SoulMate and her crew.

It was utterly lovely to be in her presence, and in the presence of those she calls her "soul circle"... And I loved that I am in it. And the hug I received from the one who made the amazing cranberry sauce (and I am VERY picky about that stuff!) was a beautiful thing. Natural. Wonderful. And explaining to people who had been strangers about how I am in this different place, and how it's been tough, but I feel really good about it... SM's mom made a point to tell me to keep growing and being glad before I left...

And as we drove home at dusk under a sky the color of a bruise, I just felt so truly blessed. And knowing that even though the tears are coming more freely in my spare moments, it's because I'm healing... Finally grieving the loss of Mel's friendship last year. Because I am proving her wrong on a daily (hourly!) basis. Cutting ties. Accepting reality. Maintaining hopes where they are worthy, and letting go of the ones that are unreasonable.

Just learning as I grow.

Actually becoming grateful for the HRT and his hurts because they made me more effective for two students who really needed a grownup who understood their dramas. How ironic that I can understand the dramas of 14-year-olds because I dated someone who acted like one last year?

And how lovely to make the connection between last Thanksgiving and the one I celebrated today?

That I wouldn't go home tonight and find cruelty on the internet. And I wouldn't spend three days alone, culminating in a 20-minute desperately horrific crying jag on the kitchen floor.

Nope.

This time, barely more than three months later, I brought my boy home, did some laundry, some dishes, read another chapter of Superfudge with him, and then put him to bed in the bed I paid for on my own, and then assembled with CB. And then completed my first task in a course that I need to complete for additional job security.

Such a different place. Such a different mind-set.

Free and clear. I'm getting there.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Six months lasted a week. If that.

I've been censoring. Because I'm all mixed up and I know certain people may or may not be reading, and it makes me not want to post stuff because I don't want to deal with it. I don't want to close doors. Or open them.

But I've been talking to girlfriends about stuff, and I realized that TheRaPist is right.

I do need to blog it.

It's like breathing.

We cleaned out the house on Friday. Finished the cabinets and closets. All that's left is the garage.

I hadn't been in there since the day I moved out, and M's mom totally helped by cleaning it up the next day. It's empty. And it doesn't feel like home anymore.

But then I was packing up stuff I'd left for M. Cooking and baking stuff... And when I went to clear out the cabinet below the oven, I came undone...

Because there was the thing he'd built in there to keep my bakeware standing and easily accessible... I remembered how I'd seen something like that at MV's and she was paying a fortune for it, and my husband built one for me.

And it's staying there... And that's done. And I sat on the floor and cried... M found me and asked if I wanted a hug. And I refused. Because I didn't want to lose it completely. But he insisted, so I let him hug me. And he held on. Tightly.

I sucked it up and moved out of his embrace and got back to work... As it started to rain, I moved boxes into the van...

And then this family came in with a realtor... And I'm all about making sure there's a backup offer, so I started talking to them, showing them some of the little touches that they might not discover on their own for awhile... They left us to our packing, deciding to wait until we were gone... They could probably smell the distress on us.

And then we were done for the evening.

And M tugged me towards the back of the house to "say goodbye"... I resisted, but gave in... And he held me tightly and then he kissed me... Like a real kiss... And I kissed him back before turning away... And then I was all confused.

As we walked out, I wondered if he would ask me to go out for coffee or a drink or something, but he didn't. And I burst out, "What was that back there?"

And he couldn't answer... Agreed when I asked, "Just caught up in a moment?"

And then he left.

And when I told V the next day at lunch, she said, "You just told him a week ago that you're waiting for him. What do you expect?"

But am I really waiting for him? What I'd told him was that I was waiting for him to choose me. Which, I don't think he is actually doing. He got "caught up in a moment"... But the last couple of days, it's felt like it's at my expense. And I don't think I want to let him do that anymore.

I love that Q's been here. And we sat on the couch that V and her bf gave me. And I've realized that I really, really, really hate the table that's in here. I didn't want it, but wanted to help M out. Because he doesn't have room to store it, but wants it. So, I tried to make it work. And I really, really hate it.

Ari was here on Sunday for breakfast. And it was lovely... And I admitted to her that I have a friend coming to visit for dinner in a couple of weeks. And that I'm nervous about it. Because we're supposed to just be friends. But he is a boy, and boys make me nervous right now. And Ari hit the nail on the head when she asked me "Are you okay with him being in your space?"

And I don't think I am, actually... But I don't know how to stop this train I'm on.

I want to have nothing to do with boys. But I want to be able to email someone who's going through a similar situation as I am and just take it for what it is. Connecting with someone who probably understands... So what if I'm completely flattered that he admitted a former crush on me? I see him as harmless.

Harmless is good.

Cable guy? Not as harmless as I'd thought.

M? Certainly not. Although he paid for lunch when we met last week, saying "Happy Valentine's Day." And giving me a card when he dropped T off on Saturday. And telling T to "kiss Mommy for me" when they spoke on the phone. Every time they spoke on the phone.

And then this morning, I took pity on M, who hadn't seen T since Saturday and asked if he wanted to meet for lunch since T and I were off. And he was thrilled and made it happen. And T still wants to do "family hug" when we go our separate ways... Which we do.

But then I find that I'm still waiting for him to choose me.

Except I'm really happy here. In my own space.

Failing miserably at what Blanche suggested.

I find myself obsessing (but not as much as you think, TF!) over the one who hasn't answered that question... From eight days ago... And even though I had a damn good reason to contact him today, I refrained.

And then an old friend told me that he met Richard from Texas.

Which meant he's reading "Eat, Pray, Love". And while it gave me pause that a guy is reading that book, it hit me that he's reading. And while some may think it's a "chick book", he is reading it. And it's obviously speaking to him on some level.

And I am assuming he's doing this for his wife.

And TheRaPist has been telling me for months that I deserve someone who will treasure me. I deserve someone who will choose me.

And I think about the men to whom I've been attracted in the last months... And how they have chosen to take advantage of my generous nature...

And ClaRiTy hit me as I read the post on my phone...

I deserve someone who will take me out to dinner.

I don't expect anything fancy. Nothing expensive.

But, dammit. I want someone to tell me they want to take me out. I want to go out and be in a public place and not feel like I have to hide. And maybe part of it's me. Because even though I'm finally actually separated for real, the fact that we're putting the paperwork on hold makes me feel like I have to still hide.

I don't want to hide.

And I know I'm not ready for this.

Six months, Blanche said.

Six months.

Okay, maybe I'll start....

Now.