Yes I was the dramatic one. I always preferred the Tina- slams- the -door -and –says- its- over kind of fight, but he didn’t have to use a simple text full of grammatical errors to end it all. I read the last line, “Honey, I leave you with luv” and tried to power through the overwhelming urge to burst into the rare diva tears, but you know how it is. The more you try the more you cry. Thoughts of him teaching me how to play pool and making fun of my tiny fingers assures me that time does not heal, it’s more of a freezer that keeps the pain fresh.
Who knew he’d be bad for my health? Anyway, as I reluctantly let go of what I’ll miss, I want to remember the good moments because they dominated. I want to remember the many days I was good to him. I want to remember that kind heart I hurt and left when I should have stayed. I want to remember all the songs we sang and not cry. I want to tell him that he was not an option. I want to free all the voices within that are hanging from the inside, come clean and confess that I don’t want another chance because I doubt I’ll be any better. Well, I also want to give a lifetime eye roll to all the guys who see me and ask where he is, but I won’t because they wouldn’t have known about him if I never displayed him all over my social media accounts as if he was for sale.
I faithfully and gently loved in my own way. Maybe I should have done that in his way. Maybe I should have asked how he liked his gifts before getting him that expensive pink suit and a yellow tie. Don’t make faces; those colors are beautiful… in their own way.
Day by day I’m gracefully letting go of what was not meant for me. After all, even as a kid I never had that bad habit of crying over other kid’s toys. Will I be sad? Yes. Will I resent pink and yellow for a while? Yes. But will I move on like I was never there? Hell yeah!!!
On that note, I need food and a photo shoot. Anyone?