October was a stain the size of you, a band aid peeled back to reveal a still bleeding wound instead of white healing skin. I tried every trick in the book, but no tourniquet could prepare me for the eventual amputation. It was pure hell. I would wake up in the middle of the night and wonder if I felt any better, but I didn't. I knew I had to go through this one on it's terms, instead of mine. I've never felt one this hard before. As an alcoholic might count the days in between drinks, I counted the days between texts, conversations and meetings, each time hoping to add one more day before I would cave. By Halloween, I had drawn and redrawn ten billion lines in the sand, constantly compromising what I knew was right, and could clearly see the mess I had made of things.
November was an exercise in avoidance. Not picking up your calls or answering your texts. No longer sending texts at 9:31 pm telling you that you are on my mind, no prayers for our reconciliation, no self sabotaging every time someone asks me out on a date and no longer listening to emo songs about love. (I am by no means a ke$ha fan, but thank God I could listen to her music without once thinking of you). I took up things like ice skating, guitar, going to church and reading at least 15 novels because that took every ounce of concentration and there just wasn't room for you. Finally, I found relief. You made me feel broken, desperate, demanding and sad and I needed to reconnect to my truest nature, not some imaginary beast.
By the final week of November, I could feel what I had failed to realize lately. There is no more sadness, happiness, wisdom, love or heartache than there has ever been. None of us are reinventing the wheel here. Every feeling I have, you have, as they have had, and will have from now on. Heartache is what connects me to everyone. We will all feel this. It's not what is lost, but what's left behind that needs my attention now.
It's December and I have a date tonight. He's handsome and hopefully we will drink the perfect amount of red wine and he will stare at me and smile, and I will forget everything I ever learned about being hurt and instead will remember everything I ever learned about love.
This year is going to end on a high note if it kills me. :)