I weep at your feet, and it rains and it rains

Photo courtesy of robertm10000 on Flickr

I am cold and damp, back in the corner of a coffee shop, listening to Joni Mitchell, with my computer and a big cup of warm green tea, watching the torrential rain pour down on the other side of the window. This weekend has been sublime and exactly what I needed in every single way; time with the girls, time with my family and time with myself. I am looking forward to the coming week for reasons that are very obvious to me. I have made the last couple of months busy on purpose, and I think it has been good for me. Focus: yours truly. I don't feel selfish. In fact, I feel more fulfilled than ever. Top two indulgences this weekend: bubble baths and photo shoots in the mirror with myself.


I'm still feeling somewhat shaken up by that unexpected call from the past the other day. I wish I hadn't answered, I wish he hadn't called, I wish he would disappear forever from my world. He had his claws in my heart for so long. Toxic as it was, there was a time when the idea of life without him was absolutely unfathomable to me. Even when I knew that he was hurting me, I could not walk away. I used to think that perhaps I could go forward into the rest of my life and learn to manage without him, but that I would never really be "over" this person who I once considered to be the center of my universe.
I've always bought into the idea that we should live to love the people we love and not live to be loved by them. A charming thought, indeed, but this has also gotten me into some trouble as far as allowing myself to be taken advantage of. I would do ANYTHING for the people I love. As it turned out, he would not be there for me again and again, at the times when I needed him most.

The concept of moving on is an interesting one. You see, even if they don't impact us profoundly enough to deserve a lifelong label such as "significant other" or "love of your life," we let people impact us in all sorts of ways when we become involved with them. Hell, we let them affect us as soon as we allow them to touch us (physically or emotionally). Do we ever really forget these impacts made? At least for me, the answer is no. But I have learned that it is possible to get over it. I used those words so many times without really meaning it, now I do. It was the strangest thing. After putting up with so much for so long, one night, I just hit a wall. That was it, I was done. I'll tell you, in the midst of the intense emotional hurricanes, I never could have imagined myself getting to this point. I sit here today and I can honestly say that there is not a part of me that would go back or that wishes it could have worked out.
Ironically, the very night that I had that epiphany, the night that he broke me for the last time, I connected with a soul who had been impacting my life indirectly for years and I began a real and direct friendship with this person. So, how can I not believe that everything happens for a reason? If I were to regret any of the pain of my past, I would not be embracing the lessons that I have learned and I would not be the woman I have become. Hard as it may be to remember sometimes, the shit really can lead us to paradise.