Even though I was parading about as superwoman and I had goals and cute outfits and some ego-boosting experiences I was still sad. So I let myself be sad. I moped for a few hours in my comfy sweatpants. I cried. I took molten-lava, hot showers and let the tears fall down the drain. I allowed myself moments of sorrow so I would not explode.
It is ok to cry. It’s just not ok to do it 24/7. Thus the need for Break-Up Commandment number seven:
THOU SHALT FIND A BALANCE IN THY GRIEF
On my way home from work I realized that it had been almost a week since I had seen him or spoken to him. I was really starting to miss him even though I was so angry that he hurt me. I admitted to myself that I wished he would call or show up on his knees begging forgiveness. Even though I couldn’t take him back. Even though I knew he would never come begging. The fantasy ran stubbornly through my mind in a loop. And I really wished I could stop. Wanting. Wishing. Thinking about it. Damn him. Damn this.
Yes, it hurt like hell. It’s not supposed to be fun. I was dumped. I knew that obsessively dwelling on him would not help. Neither would ignoring my feelings about what happened. So for one night I let myself grieve and then I traded in the sweatpants for booty jeans and I went out to face the world.
I made myself look at things in a new perspective. It really had been almost a week without him. I had almost made it through hell week. It was hard but I kept it together. And the weekend was almost here.My first full weekend as a sexy single about town. There were plenty of adventures awaiting me!
I told my friends on Thursday night, “I HAVE TO HAVE FUN THIS WEEKEND!” They were game. We planned on going to an old hang-out of ours. I was 100% sure of not running into my ex there. I decided on an outfit after mentally perusing my closet during my lunch hour. New gray shirt, skinny jeans and my gray swashbuckler boots. HOT!
I planned on kicking some ass at pool and having a few laughs and a few drinks. Sport flirting and a further boost to my ego was in order.
Friday night came around and we decided to ride bikes even though it was 9 degrees outside. (we’re hard core). Since we were riding we adjusted our plans and headed downtown for drinks and Shannanigans. We arrived and met up with a few good people I had not seen in months. I ordered myself lunchboxes for the better part of an hour. (It’s like an Irish Car Bomb but with beer + amaretto + orange juice. Sounds weird but it is yummy!)
Liquid courage! Suddenly I was smart, sexy and utterly irresistible! What boyfriend? Who was that guy anyway? It was FOREVER ago! Party! Yeah! Another lunchbox! And a peanut butter and jelly shot! (I was drinking in theme apparently).
A little while later my co-conspirator swaggered in. Yes. Trouble was brewing and I was feeling a bit … Hmmm? Conspiratorial! He caught my eye while he ordered a drink. I smiled my most wicked (and slightly drunken) of smiles. He came over and sat next to me and we talked with the group and he flirted and we ordered more drinks.
We mingled and moved in different circles for a while as the bar got more crowded. I ran into several friends I laughed, danced and had a ball.
The night was just what I needed. Sport flirting. A kissing sequel to rival the initial bathroom scene and then home to fall into bed at the wee hours of the morning.
I decided to stay in Saturday night. My people were heading out to a cluster of bars where I knew I’d run into the ex. I was not ready to see him dancing with other girls and being a smooth arse charmer like I knew he would be. Plus I had consumed enough alcohol last night for the entire weekend.
I ran to the book store. My mecca. I grabbed some new books to keep my mind occupied for a few weeks. This is what I love about fiction. I can get so engrossed in a story that suddenly I am transported to another world. I get to leave myself behind and become the main character. I found it a much more constructive way to get out of my own head than Lunchboxes.
I read, relaxed and enjoyed some much needed downtime. I was happy that I could be alone with myself without getting too sad or feeling lonely. I went to bed early and got up on Sunday morning feeling refreshed and ready for action.
Even if it was Valentine’s Day.
Stay tuned. I spend an interesting Valentine's Day with 20 friends (not counting the strippers).
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