Not like that. It’s an odd pain. A healing pain, maybe. I’m not sure how to handle it, so I bawl like a baby.
I know why. I don’t question that.
It swells, it contracts, it hurts and it feels everything.
How could I not build that fucking wall?
I’m on edge, my heart beats rapid-fire, and tears well up, easier. I have to watch myself, or I’ll cry for hours, without a care.
And I’m not even dating anyone! It’s not a lovesick thing, obviously. It’s a fear of allowing myself to be vulnerable again. Thinking about that terrifies me!
Maybe one day the thought won’t scare me so deeply. Maybe the thought of becoming serious with someone won’t make me feel like I am going to puke, or make my stomach hurt.
The idea of dating is fun. The idea of having fun is great. The idea of a serious relationship makes me want to run for the hills, screaming “noooooooooooo!”
Head shaking, side to side. Hands shaking, knees weak.
I need a drink.
I am freaking out about something, that isn’t even an issue. I mean, I cried myself to sleep, last night, thinking about how I would behave in a relationship, and how I would feel if I got into something serious, and I let myself feel, and then it ended.
I need to stop. Just thinking about it is making my stomach hurt again.
Okay. So you’re probably wondering why this is on my mind.
I’ve decided to start dating. That’s all good and fun. I know I’ve mentioned it before. I don’t keep mentioning it for the fun of it. I’m trying to broach a subject that many may frown upon, at this stage of my grieving process.
Dating. Sex. And all things that go along with it.
However, this stage of MY grieving process is my stage, and mine alone.
No one knows what I feel in my heart and soul. And believe me, I feel A LOT!
I feel sadness.
I feel happiness.
I feel excitement in each step I take, forward.
I feel pain, when I am ignored.
I feel love.
I feel dislike.
I feel annoyed.
I feel fear.
Obviously, the fear is the one that ignited my need to write.
Yesterday was the first time I thought of all the serious shit. So, the fear is fresh on my mind.
The feeling in my chest, of healing pain, is fresh.
It’s a weird feeling. I know many have gotten “butterflies” before. Like butterflies in your tummy, when you have a crush, or a gearing up for a race or a date, or a job interview.
Well, it’s that cool, full, fluttery feeling, in my chest, rather than my belly. It happening now, as I type.
It happened as I was ordering my burrito in the cafeteria, here at work.
As my heart and mind go into this mode of whatever it is, that it is in, I plan to keep taking steps. Keep moving forward. Keep an open mind, and an open heart, and not jump into anything with both feet, or head first. I’m going to let life happen.
I will continue on this path of grief and healing, and I will continue to do this my own way.
Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everyone’s concern, and caring nature, but, we are not all the same. We are all, uniquely, and beautifully made, and that is where the beauty is shown. All of our differences make us who we are.
One toe, then one foot.
One step at a time.
One text at a time.
One date at a time.
One workout at a time.
One bill at a time.
One obstacle at a time.