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.

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.