Today, my ex-fiance cleaned his things out of the apartment we shared, and turned in the last set of keys. Goodbye, 515. Goodbye, R. After he was long gone from the unit, the city, the state, he texted me and was kind, and gentle, and understanding.

"I'm always going to love you," he'd told me a month ago, sitting on the wooden swing, looking over the park where we'd both spent some of our childhoods--right there, but...

But.

I knew I'd always love him, too, a good chunk of me, and told him as much. As much as our histories had aligned, we'd lost each other in there, somewhere. We both knew this, long before the day had ever come. We both wanted to hold onto each other, onto that safety, onto a raft.

This afternoon, he told me we could use today as the jumping-off point. No contact. When we broke up, he'd resisted, but today he told me that he'd taken me off of his social media, and that he was OK with however long I needed to heal from everything.

How long we all knew this moment was coming. How long I knew. How long, I'm sure, all of you knew.

It will take me a while to contact him again.

Yesterday, I drank coffee on my porch, enjoying a bright and warm spring morning. I washed dishes in my sunny kitchen, and listened to music, and danced, and smelled the (literal) roses. In the early evening, after moving things from my car to my (second floor, no elevator, shoebox) apartment, I ate dinner with the porch door open, listening to the steady hum of activity from the units around me. I drove to the rose-giver's apartment, and ate Pop Tarts in his kitchen after...well.

He piled blankets on top of me, this morning, and I woke up, later, to him opening his patio door, the smell of coffee and bacon filling the space. He has eyes just exactly like the ocean, I swear to god, and they were so happy to see me awake, I just...

If you've ever had someone fall into your life right when you don't need a single fucking person interrupting your healing, you know exactly how I felt, when I met him. Newly single and barbed all over, I was wary of myself, wary of the possibility that I might fall into the same patterns as before and never move forward in my life. After a few days of trying and failing to shake him (from pursuing me, from my own brain, you pick), I promised him 5 less barbs a day. I'm somewhere around 100 barbs fewer, and haven't found any reasons Why Not, yet (as hard as I've tried). In fact, I've found an enormous amount of reasons why he and I would work, and it's all easy like it's never been easy for me, and hard in ways it's never been hard, before.

I'm dating other people, now, too, and I'll admit I'm very into a couple of the people I'm seeing. You know how I am about a poetic entrance, though. Some things never change. And when I'm with someone who just...brings all of me out, like this...well, I guess I'm inspired.

As for healing... I'm in therapy, and it's been going very, very well. I started seeing my therapist in...January? February? Now I'm down to once every two weeks, and might transition to even fewer trips in the next couple months, progress allowing. This week's homework was to complete a self-assessment form on how well I'm functioning as a human, and signs seem to point towards "OK."

I felt some grief in the last texts, today, but not much. It was kind of like remembering a recurring dream and just feeling glad to be awake. My therapist says I might be angry, soon, and I feel it like a nippy, wet gust in the thick summer heat. I know I'm angry, and I'll feel it, and I'll probably express it in a mixture of healthy and unhealthy ways, and then I'll process it.

And I'll keep being OK (or better).

Whoa, what??? This is such a contrast from the last entry. D:
» randomjunk on 2019-05-01 05:01:15

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