Sorry about that, lost follower of mine.
But not too sorry, because this is an honest place for me to put my feelings. I started blogging three and a half years ago right after I'd left my ex-husband. I was living in my dad's living room and felt unwelcome, unloved, and unable to express myself. The ability to place my inner thoughts here has literally saved my life in the years since then.
I was feeling very, very low when I wrote that post. I'd missed my kids all weekend. I'd argued with the Ex about child support and he'd been kind enough to inform me of how he'd had an epiphany about his life and now he was a completely different person. I'll be honest. As much as I am glad that he is really no longer my problem, that hurt. Because I swore before GOD and my family to be that man's wife, and he took that trust and that oath and he used it. He drug me all over the country, lied to me and to others, and put me through hell. And he's lived with four different women in that time. He had another pregnant before I"d had a chance to give birth to our youngest child. It hurts me that he's managed to find love repeatedly and to manage a rather carefree exsistance. And I've struggled with loneliness and housing, food, employment.
Things are materially so much better now than they were even a year ago. I think that's why the emotional needs feel so much more urgent. I guess it all goes back to the hierarchy of needs they teach in basic psychology classes.
Anyway, after I wrote that gut wrenching post, something happened. J called me out of the blue. J, the one I've seen on and off since spring. The one who isn't perfect and isn't even the ideal BF?
He missed me, I've missed him. And I think that all other things aside, part of my issue is that I am so afraid of being hurt like I was by my ex, that I don't admit my own feelings to myself.
See, two weeks ago J had emailed me and basically said he felt we should stop seeing each other. I, not being one to beg, left it at that. But it isn't just that. I like that man and may even love him a little. Not in the I'd die for you way that a mother loves, or even the I'd do anything way a best friend loves. But in the "you make my day when you call" love. In the "I could stare at those eyes all night way".
It doesn't cure my over all issue, which is that I'm lonely and feel like I am ready for a life partner, or at least a steady squeeze. I don't know if J is that man. I know that he lives an hour and a half away. I know that I like my job here and it would take a VERY SPECIAL kind of man to get me to move. I also know that he is a good dad, he's an honorable and gentle person. And he gets me.
Gets me is hard to beat.
Is there something wrong with letting myself feel what I feel? Am I setting myself up for bug time hurt later on by allowing myself to feel these things. OR should I admit what I feel, end things and grieve? I think the last option is probably a recipe for a lonely life. I suspect that heartache is probably part of life, and that avoiding it at the expense of feelings isn't healthy.
But what is? And what the hell do I know anyway?
I suspect this is one of my long, rambling blogs that ends up not being all that readable. I'll put something more informative together next time.
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