Thursday, February 5, 2015


I'll be the wisest woman alive soon.
Why do I do this to myself? Do I love to be miserable? I ate way too much tonight at dinner. We went to Texas Roadhouse, which starts you with those lovely little hot rolls and honey cinnamon butter. I promptly ate two, I think before I even placed my order. I am slightly comforted by the fact that it was a fairly healthy dinner: medium cooked 6 oz steak with sauteed onions and mushrooms on top, green beans, and a plain baked potato. Water to drink. No appetizers. Still, it was more than I needed, and yet I topped it off with one more roll with butter before leaving.

Ugh. I'm paying for it now. I tried to "balance" things out by doing a workout this evening. I don't think it did much good because I felt so lousy I could only do a slow walk for 25 minutes; half as fast and half the time of my normal workouts.

To add to my misery I decided to text the guy who just dumped me, just to wish him a happy birthday and see if he got my present. He got it and said it was very sweet (a personalized beer tap). Glad he got it. He also got sick for his birthday. Part of me wishes I could be happy and feel self-righteous that he's sick and miserable on his birthday. Mostly I'm just too nice to be petty. I'd rather make myself miserable than wish it on him.

Maybe that's why I overate at dinner. (No maybe about it, it definitely is why I overate at dinner.) If I'm going to be miserable it's better(?) to feel too full from a good dinner than to be crying over a guy who dumped me via text. A guy who isn't romantic and doesn't really feel emotions, but doesn't feel romantic feelings for me. A guy who has been steady dating me for three months.

Everyone keeps saying I'm better off and that he didn't deserve me. Everyone keeps saying I'll meet someone better. Everyone keeps saying he's an idiot. That may be true, but I'm not there yet folks. I've been trying to hold it together all week, trying to stay focused at work and positive around others, but inside the wounds are still pretty raw. I almost made it all day today and Tuesday without crying, almost. I cried myself to sleep Tuesday night. I'm crying now as I type this. Monday and Wednesday started the day with tears but then got better. I know it will get better. I know I won't cry over him forever. But sometimes I feel so sick to my stomach with ache over the suddenness of this unexpected loss. I believe it will get better. I know this won't last forever, but right now this is where I am.

I am hurting.
I am mourning the loss of a man who possessed some wonderful qualities that I didn't even know I so strongly desired in a relationship partner.
I'm mourning the loss of a friend whom I always felt safe with.
I'm mourning the loss of a partner who cheered me up when I was sad and made me laugh when I was stressed.
I'm mourning the loss of someone who put up with my crazies.
I'm mourning the fun adventures we were going to have together: rock wall climbing, shooting, flying in his plane.
I'm mourning the quiet nights snuggling with him and his dog on the couch watching movies.
I'm mourning the loss of someone wiser and more experienced and more knowledgeable to help me shop for a new car.

I am hurting and it's ok to cry.

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