Since briefly mentioning my break up last week (here) I’ve been trying to re-organise myself, whilst attempting to do the same with my blog as my writing has fallen way behind. Something which I never saw coming, I thought I wouldn’t be able to shut up and have about 20 posts up already but, nope.
That was until last night.
The combination of no sleep, having no contact with Mr C and a weekend fuelled by things people do at weekends, I ended up writing Mr Cheerful a bit of a book. This morning, I briefly went over what I had written and the parts I looked at seem so tangled in sadness, shock and confusion.
Emotions of going through a break up? But for some reason I feel the same way I did when my Grandfather died. Which is that I have no right to feel this way.
I shouldn’t be sad anymore.
I should already have moved on from this.
I should already be .. happier.
Think these thoughts may also be down to the fact that deep down we both saw it coming. I couldn’t sleep the night before, and dreaded that morning because I had a feeling it wouldn’t end well. However I didn’t know that it could’ve easily been our last conversation.
That I would feel so devastated.
That I would still love him.
That my heart would keep breaking.
There’s so much work to be done here my friends. Some of which include working my way back home, to myself and to the women I aspire to be.
But today it all seems so scary and I’m terrified. We have so many things designed to create shortcuts, yet nobody seems to have come up with a shortcut to overcome loss.
We’re expected to overcome at the same pace as everybody around us, we have conversations with ourselves like: so & so got over her boyfriend in a month, I have to do the same or his already over me so I have to be over him just as fast.
But that’s not how it works, at least for me. I know I’m going to have to work really hard and face everything that’s yet to come, with as much dignity and self respect as I can and then come out the other side still believing Love conquers all.
Even though right now, I don’t believe that. And if we’re going down this road I must admit that I also don’t believe that time as everyone keeps saying will heal all wounds.
Not today, at least.
So in light of this, what’s still giving me hope and helping me get up every morning, you ask? Strangely enough I have no idea. All I know is that I have to read through this chapter regardless of whether or not I like this book, I have to wake up each day and belive that things will get better.
Wherever this little spark of hope has come from, whoever sent it my way I’m beyond grateful for it.
And as mortified as I was this morning about the “book” I sent Mr C, I do think it needed to happen, I needed to say something maybe not all of it though. I don’t know. One thing I would like to add is that I am thankful to Mr C for taking the time to respond and helping me ride that wave, that hit me out of nowhere.
Fuelled by last nights desire to write until my hands hurt, I’ve decided to use the platform I created for the sole purpose of sharing, exploring, learning and continue doing just that .. by writing it all on this blog.
Don’t worry I’ll still use it for photography, haven’t fallen out of love with it yet (YAY) and I have about a months worth of photo challenges to catch up on, so look out for those.
But they’ll also be posts like this one, where I let myself feel extremely vulnerable, alongside my weekly gratitude list because there is a lot to still be thankful for, even if I can’t see it. I’m sorry if most of this doesn’t make sense, but I want to do more of that thing where I at least try something before throwing in the towel.
So there you have it, my second attempt at “talking” about stuff, stuff that hurts, pushes me out of my comfort zone and put myself out there.