My body has been shaky. I had been eating pretty bland foods in the hopes they would be less likely to "vacate the premises."
But this weekend, I ate so many breadsticks from Olive Garden, and prepared with Imodium, managed to do okay.
I know you love when I talk shit...right?
Anyway, I find myself wondering what the rest of my life will be now. It took me 14 years to adjust my goals/dreams to include/revolve around my husband. Now I consider an alternate life. Would I date again? Most definitely. Would I marry again? Not unless I was shot with some magic love arrow or for unless he was really rich and it was for show. I really need to find a closeted gay guy who needs a beard. Like Anderson Cooper. Yum.
Where would I go? What would my life be? I find comfort in this...it actually makes me feel better to think of life on my own terms and away from hurt. It doesn't scare me AT ALL. It actually scares me to think of being stuck in this purgatory that I am in for the rest of my life. I want to lay around and ask "Why?" But I keep that pretty much out of my head because it's not productive. I grieve. I cry when my body wants to purge. I get angry (but don't express it other than to acknowledge it. I am not opening the floodgates because it won't be pretty.)
I also grow a little cold. I start to lose the vulnerable feelings. Am I forcing myself to? No...it's just who I am. I find myself wanting to change my FB status to single. I wish I could erase the indentations left on my ring finger from 12 years with a ring on. Its foreign, yet familiar. I could have a new life. I could erase this. It could be a memory, not a reality. I'm not down on love. I still believe, although, its different.
But now my love doesn't have a face or a name.