This is apparently the week that my ex-love moves back in with his family. It is a weird, falling feeling. I am picturing all of my photos, all of my emails, all the clothes I bought for him, the computer equipment, and all the furniture I had bought for our life together bundled into a proverbial dumpster. The letters and photos are probably already burned, the emails erased, and I am sure all of the clothes and furniture are residing at a local charity shop and it just feels a little empty. I mean, I am not a stuff person at all, but the fact that a whole year can just be erased like this is more than a shock.
I am healing, bouncing back, growing up, growing older, trying to stay on the path, moving forward, feeling sad...all the mixed up emotion I have been through over and over again. And I know I sound like a broken record. I got involved in a situation that was none of my business and I totally got what I deserved. Yes, I did it to myself. Yes, I knew I would crash and burn but I thought I could beat the odds. I am no gambler but I gambled on love and lost.
If there is a lesson I am trying to take away from this, it is to stop second-guessing myself, to stop being angry and bitter, to let the past go and know that I had love, and to move forward. It seems like a mountain range rising up in front of me and I am a tiny ant wondering how am I ever going to get that far. And, trite as it sounds, the only way is by six diminutive legs, one step at a time. And, universe willing, I won't get stepped on along the way.
