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:::This was written in chunks between May 6th and May 21st. It was a strange, gray area kind of time. I was single, but the loose ends had not been tied. I was mourning. I’m still mourning, but I’m back on track for real life again. So at least there is that.  I’m figuring out my life again, recalculating my dreams and goals, putting them in action.:::

So at first, it was a lot of this:

I have everything, and yet nothing, to say.

My mind is racing but is also completely blank.

I’m quiet. I’m a little lost.

Apparently for the first days after a break up, I’m exactly on the right track.

And then later it some of this:

All good things must come to and end. Or, whatever.  I agree to disagree on that one. I always knew that he always knew that it wouldn’t last forever, but I held on as tight as I could anyway. I guess I thought if I just kept trying to make us right, then maybe one day we’d pass over the time when we weren’t right, and then we’d finally be on the same page.  Those times, when I thought were were on the same page, they came a few times already; I’d let go of my anxious grip and I’d have faith things were lining up as hoped. Eventually, something else would pop up and I’d be reminded that as much as I loved him, we truly want different things. But when we were happy, we were so incredibly happy. So happy that anytime I wasn’t happy, was such a tiny tiny tiny percentage of the time, it felt as if it didn’t exist. Looking back over the last three and a half years I honestly can’t tell you the details of our fights, of our bad days. I only remember laughter. I was always laughing. I was always bragging that I had my very own comedian, who altered his shows just solely for my entertainment.

Life can be difficult, at times. But you have to be able to find the good and decide whats worth the trouble and what isn’t.

and towards the end of that, it turned into this:

So it ended. Whatever. I’ll be fine and he’ll be fine and we’ll move on with our lives.

I know he will probably read this. I can’t say I blame him. If he wrote something I’d want to read it too. I thought about not writing all of this, because I hate writing overly personal things, but then I realized that all this really says is how I’m feeling without any gruesome details. Plus, I write. It’s how I express myself. So here it is.

You can’t force puzzle pieces to fit together. If they don’t fit, then they just don’t fit. They might click together good enough, with a gentle push, they might be looked over at first, but eventually you realize that piece doesn’t actually go there, you move it, and you move on.

And then: five whole days after that, here we are:

Some nights I can’t sleep. Last night was one of those nights. I laid there for hours thinking “I get through so many days feeling for the most part normal, and then I have nights like these”. When will I feel whole again? When will I feel myself all the time again?

When will I stop feeling like this, at least?

But, there is a light at the end of my tunnel:

I’m single, yes. Independent all over again, but this time I’m starting fresh in Denver.

I leave on June 15th.