The Girl in Black

Se necesita una poca de gracia.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

Nostalgia and a birthday party...

My coworker friend and his wife are two of several awesome people I have met through my ex, and people I considered "my friends" just as much as I considered them my ex's. I've spent plenty of time at their house, by this point, and have even been to a party of theirs before without my ex.

But yesterday was their son's second birthday party, and an occasion for the entire circle to show up for a shindig that only this couple can throw. And I had a really great time! I stayed way later than I had originally intended, and enjoyed the company of many nifty people.

And yet, it seemed strange at times.

It just hit me that, on an occasion such as this, my ex would and should have been there. I didn't feel quite like I had taken his place, but it seemed funny to me that he was gone and I was accepted into this group on my own merit.

It was a mere seven months ago that the two of us were celebrating New Years' eve in much the same fashion. But it seems like a lifetime ago sometimes. And I had met all these people because of my ex, in my ex's presence, and usually seen them in tow with my ex. And now I am alone.

I suppose sometimes I still miss him, but a lot of it is just habit. How things used to be. I feel a lot more comfortable being myself now without him around. I had mentioned some of what went on to my therapist the other day. Her comment was "He sounds very controlling." It was just a little bit more validation, but something I needed.

And I recounted the whole sordid breakup story to her (an epic that spanned over two months, so much so that I can barely remember when it began and when exactly it ended), with little details thrown in that most people don't get to hear. And as I reached the end of it I felt that much stronger, that much prouder of myself. Instead of being passive, or elusive, I stood up for myself. Remembering this feels good.

And in a way I'm greatful for what I went through, because if I hadn't learned what wasn't good for me, I wouldn't be able to appreciate the sweetness of what I have now.

Love is really a funny little thing. I won't ever say that I didn't truly love my ex. It just seems like such a paradox, to say that I honestly loved and on some level still care about someone who wasn't good for me, and makes me terribly angry and bitter at times. But then, I tend to be quite the contradiction. And I have the habit of seeing the beauty of people's insides, ignoring certain outward traits that are more negative. Once I make that connection with a person, more often than not all else is forgiveable, because I know that person's soul. Things like being constantly late, or forgetting to call, or being a womanizer, or rough around the edges, etc. That's just who these people are, it's part of what makes them them. (The thing for me to remember is how much of who these people are affects me. Something I can get into the habit of forgetting.)

We really are all beautiful and perfect, exactly as we are, "warts" and all. If only I could convince others to see in themselves what I see in them. And even as I say that, others say it of me.

"Healer, heal thyself."



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