Anger. It's a fickle thing. Some people are quick to be angry. Others, stew and brew until they can no longer take it.
I am the latter. Jimena said it was going to take anger to help me to move on, and now I think that I am there. Ladies and gents, he got a Facebook. The one thing, he always said was stupid and would never do. He even used pictures from our vacations to start albums. The profile picture he has, is one that took. Let's face it. He is a single, 25 year old man. The way my friend Alex, explained it to me is this: It's like a man going through a mid-life crisis--and buying a convertible. I completely understand that Facebook is not the end of the world, and nor is him getting one the end all be all of the universe. Yet, if you understood him and the way that he was---you would understand the way that I feel right now. If I had been a terrible person in our relationship, if I were a cheater, a liar, a psycho, a controlling maniac--I might have been able to rationalize all of this. I am not going to dwell on the details---but here we go.
As time goes on, I continue to get slapped in the face harder and harder. I am not sure how much harder I could get hit. If you could see me now. I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a room full of broken furniture---begging him to hit me harder. No one can recognize me, and no one can hear me screaming.
Hit me harder. Hit me so hard you feel ashamed. I can take it. You've been doing it for the past three weeks, what's another few blows to my psyche? I'll take the hits, look you right in the eye, and my stare will not falter.
Today, he took a step futher away from me. A step closer to being someone I don't know anymore. If that is what you want, so be it. I can hit hard, too. Especially where it hurts.
So starts a journey to find myself.
Tomorrow I am going to start training for a 10k. I am going to put my best foot forward, and focus on work, and making myself better both personally and professionally. I am going to find me, in the aftermath of this storm. I am going to paint, and create, and laugh and write and be happy. I was once happy, and you were too. I don't know what happened to you, to me, to us. I don't know a lot of things---but I do know I can be happy again. You don't define me. As much as I have been defined by this relationship, and as much as my heart hurts because of all this---I know I am going to be fine.
I will no longer be someone you know anymore---and I hope it makes you die inside. I hope it does to you, what you have done to me.
So here's to the first day of trying to honestly and fully work through this pain, because to dwell on it will only let him hurt me more.
At the end of the day, I know that I can find happiness.