As the waves crash in front of me, all I can think of is how I’m procrastinating packing up the house. He’s taken most of his share of belongings and now I’m sorting through mine. Yesterday I ran out of rubbish bags, so I left. I also started to panic when deciding what to do with the pots and pans. I used to love cooking, now it will have to go into storage until I decide my next move.
A friend and I sent each other postcards but neither of us have received it. So I asked him what he had written, and told him mine. He said it was like he sent out a message in a bottle - and I found him in a sea of strangers. I told him that I missed him, but I didn't like that I miss him. We get each other like that.
I think I finally realised why I couldn't let go of the house - I needed time to verbalise what I have been resenting. It wasn't the break up, or feeling less of a woman - it was having to admit that this is right for both of us. Moving on from this is shit scary, but it needs to happen. I need to let that part of me go.
Which brings me to the next question - when is the right time to start dating? How long after a breakup does the next relationship not be considered a ‘rebound’? The truth is, that depends on me, and how I feel about it. When I meet men, I put them in boxes - guys that are fun but lead nowhere, the too hard basket, the potential relationship but haven't got a clue. Truth is any of them could lead into a relationship if I allowed them to. But I don't. I don't want to put myself back out there because it makes me vulnerable. That's just it, love, real love isn't about control, it’s given freely by two people. I have to learn to trust myself again. I have to choose to trust again.
That feeling of being unsteady, and second guessing, it sucks being stuck in the mud. I was listening to X Ambassadors’ song ‘Unsteady’, written by children of divorced parents. There in the car as I drove, sadness overwhelmed me and my vision blurred. It struck me, so suddenly, yet it gave me hope. I wasn't numb. A moment of pain for a lifeline and I have never been so hopeful.
I’m going to keep writing my book, and I want to finish it before Christmas. By then April will seem like a lifetime ago, and I will be a bit wiser too. It will be my first Christmas alone, I might even go on a road trip.
All I know is that each day I work on my own happiness, brings me closer to be able to receive the love I deserve. I know you're curious about my message in a bottle, and for now a vast sea exists between us, and we don't talk often. But when we do, it’s like we’ve known each other a lifetime ago, and he’s back to remind me that love exists because I’ve known pain.
Loving is hard, but keeping it to yourself, that would be a tragedy.