3 Years. A Confession Tsunami.

I wasn’t going to write, today. I wasn’t going to dive into everything that I have done recently.

I was definitely not going to admit to everyone that around this time of year, I do things I really shouldn’t do.

I wasn’t going to admit to the fact that I got off of work early, yesterday, drove to my ex’s house, and had sex. Hello, 23 years older and we still behave like teenagers with raging hormones. yeesh.

I wasn’t going to admit that I sat in his bed and responded to the guy friend of mine that I fell in love with, when he texted me. read receipts give me anxiety and I keep mine on for the most part.

I wasn’t going to confess that they LIVE A FEW HOUSES FROM EACH-OTHER! I learned that today, actually.  I couldn’t believe it. The friend could have literally watched me walk into the ex’s house. Wow… Just WOW.

Not going to mention the fact that I lied and fulfilled a desire I had. I’m not ashamed of the act of sexual pleasures. I am ashamed that I lied. I mean, I really am a terrible liar anyway, so I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew I was lying anyway. But, I also don’t see the need in saying “hey child of mine, I am going to “insert name here”‘s house to have sex. See you soon! Nope. That is ridiculous!

I don’t even know why I lied. I can’t keep it a lie, because I have a big ass mouth and I have this blog and this blog is where I confess all of my shit. Especially when I am hungry, and I am waiting to go get food and I have a brain that’s lacking in nutrients. I don’t have the ability to lie.

I wasn’t going to admit that I knew all along that I was just another “hoe” when it came to the ex. HA! Sure. Or just a woman who knows what she wants and where to get it. I’d be more surprised if he wanted to continue to see me, than I would be if he never texted, called, or facetimed again. I’m not sure I even care, honestly. I am not mad, or even sad. I just feel blank. Maybe it’s because today is what it is, or maybe its because it’s real. I won’t know until later on. But that’s what I feel right now.

Empty.

My heart is getting harder and harder, I guess. I can’t lie about that, or pretend otherwise.

Last Saturday, when I was sitting in my car, sobbing like a baby, because the man I fell in love with who could never find time to hang out with me, even as a friend, told me he asked a woman on a date, is the time when I decided I was going to follow through, and quit holing out for him. I knew the ex wasn’t small, I knew he had been around the block and could hold his own in the bedroom. Why the hell not? Right? (No offense, babe. It’s just how my fucked up head works these days. And I was right. you were great. Thanks. 😉 )

Happy Fucking Deathiversary!

I’m going to eat, now, before I confess to the candy I stole when I was a kid.

This Is The Worst Month Of The Year.

I don’t base everything off of astrology, but this month has been pretty fucking spot-on, so far.

“You will be more open about your love interest.” Check! Especially since I have the best Pseudo name for him. 

“You will be very popular amongst people mid-month, as your charm draws people in.” Check! 

“Do not make any decisions based on emotion, until later in the month.” Check!

 

This month is a rough month for me. It was a rough month financially, before Mitch passed, and it’s been mentally rough since he has passed.

His 3 year Deathiversary is in 12 days.

I feel the days drawing near.

I feel the tears well in my eyes, and I know that no matter what I do, no matter who I get involved with, no matter what happens, this month will kick my ass emotionally.

Astrologically speaking, I should have an amazing month as long as I don’t make any big decisions.

I am not making any decisions this month, because this month would be the worst month to do that.

Small things have been weighing on my mind, and right now, they seem huge.

Small things are killing me, and I am standing here, shoving them away, one at a time.

I cannot allow January to break me, every year.

It’s a thought I have, but as each day speeds by, my heart aches a little deeper. The pain becomes a little sharper. The memories flood me. The party at my co-worker’s house, with a bunch of my favorite people that Mitch was able to attend. He couldn’t sleep that night. He held my hair when I puked. He told me everything was going to be okay. He drove home the next day. He pulled over so I could puke on our way home. He laughed and blamed the funny tasting water I had with breakfast, and not the 2 bottles of wine I had for dinner the night before. The dinner during Restaurant week with friends that Mitch refused to go to, because he just didn’t feel well. Me dancing my way out the door, singing “all cried out” by allure and 112, on my way to that dinner. Mitch calling for dinner from Eat. Fit. Go. Tuesday night, because he was craving their Turkey chili.

No one can get ahold of Mitch on Wednesday. Have I seen him?

The drive to the FedEx Hub.

The blur that encompassed me as the officer pulled me into Julie’s office.

The ripping pain that started the moment I saw the police cars, finishing me, as she spoke the words I knew I would hear.

The blur of that day. The Drive to John and Tracey’s.  The drive to Michael Dale’s house. “Enough!” Brady said and took me back to his house.

The blur of people coming and going.

Midwest transplant calling once and being rejected to talk to me, because of timing.

Midwest transplant calling again, as I sat with a semi circle of seated family members, mourning the loss of a human so amazing.

Laughing while on the phone with midwest transplant, about the meaning of someone’s name, and the immediate shame I felt as all eyes were on me.

This.

Month.

Will….

break me.

Every single year.

 

So.

No big decisions.

No relationships.

No throwing in the towel.

No big purchases.

No job changes.

No changes.

Everything stays the same.

I break in peace.