Saturday, August 15, 2009

Sunset, Wine, and Chocolate

It's been a tumultuous year. It was a year ago that my bubble burst. It had a sound, like one of those cartoon bubbles that bursts above the head of a deflated character. That's the moment I knew that I was broken and out of love and couldn't continue on the pretend fairy tale path I'd imagined for myself.

Floating through the next few months, I remember the never ending feeling of dread every time I thought of the endless number of directions my life could go if I made the decision I knew I had to make. That's the rub. Choose certain misery or choose a mere chance for happiness, whatever happiness is. I haven't figured that much out yet and am not sure I'm cut out for it anyhow.

So, here I sit writing my very first real blog. Drinking Barefoot Merlot straight from the bottle and eating my favorite chocolates after walking on a nearly deserted beach at sunset. I'm waiting on the next move. Waiting to become a better person and fighting with myself about the journey I should be taking and the one I actually am.

I'm living with a man who abused me for years and vacillates. with whiplash speed, between being contrite and still in love with me and thinking of new ways to hurt me; finagling (it's the fab new word for fucking) and wanting more than I should from an extremely hot younger guy who is in love with another woman and certainly doesn't need nor want my drama in his life anyhow. Waiting patiently for my best friend to berate me every time I call him with my newest stupid decision that I already know is stupid before he reminds me repeatedly.

All of them are hurting me for my own good. They've all said it in some form or another. That's my favorite part of my relationships. It's actually become a masochistic point of pride. That I'm so comfortable to people that they don't even notice me is almost wonderful. I wonder, though, when someone will actually appreciate me before the part of me devoted to him has been broken to a billion unrepairable pieces. More importantly, would I even know what to do with that? Melodramatic? Maybe. But isn't life?

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