Deep thoughts....by Me!

So this last 6 weeks have been tough. Really tough. The 3 people I know who actually read this already know each day has been a challenge.... I had this moment of truth tonight: I got through the last 6 weeks without him and it didn't destroy me! All through my 20's I struggled with an eating disorder. Remission...relapse...remission...relapse. My senior year in college I was dangerously thin. Everyone knew I had a problem...except me. I spent so much money on counseling trying to figure out why I am like this. I was SO afraid of what this break up would do to me after going 5 years without a slip-up. Have I lost some weight? Sure, but not in an unhealthy way. I did something different this time: I made sure I ate something everyday, even if I didn't want to.

Break ups have always brought out the worst in me. I learned why in counseling, but before that I always did some very foolish things that just made it worse. Not this time. I vowed to handle things nicely. And why not? I spent 1 1/2 years building a solid friendship with him before we dated for 3 1/2 years. It was a wonderful 5 years. Am I hurt? Yes. Angry? Yes....but it certainly doesn't justify bad mouthing someone you care about all in the name of wounded pride. The only thing I wish I could take back was an angry e-mail about him that I sent in a moment of weakness to a mutual "friend" of ours. She had emailed me telling me she heard the news and was really sorry and would call me soon. I wrote her back telling her vaguely what happened and inserted my own commentary here and there. I never heard from her again. I thought she was my friend and I was looking for sympathy. Now I'm worried she's gossiping to people what little deatil I told her. Funny how I work 60 hours a week but she is the one too busy to check on me. Anyway, I made things as right as I could by telling my ex about it over our "closure over coffee" talk a few weeks ago. He wasn't happy, but I would rather he hear what I said from me. The old me would have bad mouthed him to anyone who would listen, in hopes it would get back to him and hurt him as much as he hurt me. Did he cheat on me? No. Was he a lying drunk? No. Was he physically/emotionally abusive? No. So what gives me the right to say mean things?

Then tonight it hit me. I really like who I have become. I don't need to say unkind words I don't really mean. In fact, not a night goes by (even when I'm on call) that I don't say a prayer for him and hope that he is okay. However things turn out in the end, I know I will be okay. I have a great career ahead of me, I have great friends, neices who think I'm way cool, and maybe, just maybe, if I'm lucky I'll meet a wonderful man who wants to spend the rest of his life with me.