Turning the page
Mood:
celebratory
Now Playing: Sex and Candy -- Marcy Playground
It finally hit me, all in a rush. After 90 days of Greg's absence, all the emotions that I've been afraid to feel came at me like a tidal wave, and after a moment of anxiety, I accepted it all...and further moved onto a much happier self.
I got angry two nights ago. I decided that if he cared about me more than he cared about himself, he would have called by now. And I said aloud (to myself, but still aloud) that he made me lose a piece of who I used to be. His lack of responsibility made me more responsible, and while that could be construed as a good thing, I can't keep pretending it didn't bother me more than a little. I'd save every nickel I could for some distant vacation, only to learn he was still enjoying his daily Starbucks or weekly scratch games.
We argued. A lot. More than I've ever argued with anyone else.
I blamed myself for that, wondering if I could have asked him in a nicer way to try harder to save, to help around the house, whatever. He'd complain about never having any fun, and that hurt. I thought we had a lot of fun, and I knew he believed that too, but when he was mad, he'd say whatever he wanted and rarely apologize for it later. I learned to ignore those comments, instead of starting yet another argument.
I've spent so much time defending him these past three months that I didn't allow even myself to see the bad. I wanted to convince everyone else that our relationship was perfect, even though it wasn't, not by a long shot. I had doubts. Yeah...I had lots of them, and I'd talk to him about them, and he'd reassure me that we'd work through everything.
He's gone, and I miss him, especially when I'm out. I see a truck like his, or someone on the street, and I look closer. But I think of him less with each passing day. I feel a little bad about that, even as I acknowledge it's healthy.
And now I'm interested in someone else, and I feel guilty because I don't feel guilty. I like this person for who he is and for the way he makes me feel about myself when I'm around him. He's not a replacement. He's just possibly the next chapter (or only a page?) in the book of my life. He's fabulous, and I hope he doesn't get scared off when he reads this...because I like him. A lot. And when I'm all alone, I picture his smiling face...and that's weird...because it doesn't feel weird at all.