The Horizon

My mother can be a ray of sunshine. I think that to myself when she states the painful, obvious truth. So imagine that she is like that ray of sunshine that cuts through your flesh and pierces your heart in a blistering attack. So when I reported the details about my date with Delaware, she abruptly announced, "He's not going to call." Thanks for dashing any bit of hope I had managed to salvage. Even though she was right, and even though I knew he was telling me, "I'm sorry you wasted your time driving this far for nothing," it still smarts when you accept that fact. Couple that with the fact I actually did get the final call from FG. It took him two weeks to make the call. He said he was putting it off because he didn't know what to say. Then he didn't say anything. He was silent. I considered helping him out and offering him a statement to get him started. "It's not working out." "You're just not feeling it." "There isn't the spark you had hoped for." "We're heading in different directions." "We don't seem to have much in common." And that was off the top of my head. Instead, I let him suffer. He eventually spit out that he didn't feel the connection he thought he should feel. I made sure to tell him I figured out he felt that way when he didn't call for two weeks. He needed to know that I wasn't surprised. Or maybe I felt the need to tell him that. Either way, it's over and I'm not devastated. But I felt uneasy, unsettled. Was it because I didn't get to say it first?

So I did what any good single girl does. I threw myself a pity party. This particular one has lasted about four days. There were tears. Not just the single tear, dramatically making its way down my cheek. I had one of those streaming tears/sobbing/can't catch your breath/even the dogs look at you funny/your eyes stay red for an entire day kind of cries. It was ugly. Like any good party, it also involved shopping. Not for favors or decorations, but for raising up my spirits and reinforcing my independence. I also spent some time in deep reflection and bring productive-cleaning, re-organizing, putting stuff away. Uncluttering my space has a way of uncluttering my brain. But I spent even more time lying in bed with the dogs, feeling sorry for myself.

And now I'm back. Party over. Back to the world of the living where I need to do laundry and contribute to society. At the gym last night, I was able to jog on the treadmill for ten whole minutes. In a row. And I did that twice. Marathon runners scoff, but for me, that is an accomplishment. I think I was able to sweat out the negativity.

Coming up, my brother will be home for two weeks. We'll have plenty of family time to keep me occupied. And I'll keep adding to that time on the treadmill. I have some plans for putting up French Onion Soup and chicken stock.  And football and baseball (who knew the Bucs could make it into the playoffs?) will be there to entertain me. There are no dates on the horizon. But lucky for me, I still have clear skies ahead for myself. I'm the one in control of that.