[Bishop's Fantasy?]
This is MY story and I'm sticking to it!Hoping To And Hoping Not To
2007-05-09
In just under three weeks, I'll be packing up and moving my kids, my cats, my household, and my pain and moving to a new city. That sounds pretty bleak, but it's how I feel. No word from and no random meetings with the Bishop since I spoke with him last on April 4th. A friend of mine saw his wife at the bookstore where she works a couple of days ago and said she looks like death warmed over. Not having a clear perspective, I don't know if it's just the first impression she makes or if she's actually not doing well. I've been careful to avoid going in there during her shifts, so I have no firsthand knowledge. I hope she'll be able to breathe a little easier once she knows I'm gone from here.
My heart is still aching and missing him, but I'm trying to keep my thoughts focused where they're supposed to be. Still not any easier than when I hung up with him that last time. I still find myself looking for his car, even though I'm not sure I want to see him. If I'm honest, it's because I don't want to know which way his reaction would go. I don't want him to look at me and turn away. I don't want him to look at me and make eye contact either. People say youth makes you resilient to the pains of life. If that's the case, then youth definitely isn't on my side. He told me to remember. As if there was ever any doubt. "You never know what you've got 'til it's gone" doesn't apply to me. I knew how special our connection was. Wrong, but very deep nonetheless. I allowed him all the way inside my defenses. I welcomed him and held him as close as I possibly could in every respect. The relationship is over, but the love continues on.
Even tonight, I found myself laughing at something that was said at dinner and thinking about him the whole time. A friend and I were discussing our respective knitting projects and what kind of class we should take next. I told her I thought we should try sweaters and she wasn't sure she could do something that complicated. She thought we should ease into it with sweater vests. Her husband rolled his eyes because he didn't want to be the recipient of such a gift. The Bishop and I had a running joke about sweater vests and how I think they're for little old men. He showed up on Valentine's Day wearing a red sweater vest. I loved that he remembered it. I loved that he did something spontaneous and crazy just to make me laugh. How could I forget the twinkle in his eye when he saw my reaction? How could I possibly forget any of it?
I really am trying to reach for what I know is right. I'm trying to make better choices. I'm trying to be a good girl for God. I'm trying to believe that's who I am and not the wild child who likes to live on the edge. It's a daily struggle. Who am I kidding? It's a moment by moment struggle. For better or worse, those memories are permanently etched in my brain. Nothing short of a frontal lobotomy will change that.
Bratmom (2007-05-10)
hugs hang in there hon
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