Day 43 — Surviving

You should listen to my theme song as you read today’s post.


Antigua Sailing Week Theme Song: Maroon 5’s My Ocean Blue

My trip to Antigua—all fantasy, all fun. Yes, that’s part of it.

But there’s another reason I’m going. I want to show up my ex boyfriend—a die hard sailor whom I hope will envy my adventure. I’m sure he will, and I will take pleasure in that.

But I still can’t touch him, and that’s what I really want, as foolish as that is. He says he’s found someone else, and, in less than two months since we broke up, he says she may be long term. I won’t know, for sure, but I do know that it still hurts that I wasn’t the one.

I’m still trying to figure this one out. In his mind, he probably has. I should have known when he didn’t give me the bracelet he bought for me on my visit to see him before the holidays. Giving a girl jewelry means something besides I like you. When he gave me a sweater for Christmas instead, I couldn’t brave the question about what happened to the bracelet.

I’m truly trying to rise above the emotion and settle on an intellectual plane that will enlighten me so I can move on and not make the same mistake the next time I open my heart up to a man.

The emotions are still raw—too raw—for me to understand, and maybe I never will, that there’s an irreconcilable difference in our planes of reasoning for what happened to us, to me, in particular. I need to accept this fate, turn of event, call it what you will. In time, I will.

I hope time will heal, like it’s supposed to. I put my trust in it. Right now, I have nothing else to hang on to.

I try to project a strong woman, and, in many ways, I am. But I’m wounded now, not from the outside like a dove in flight with a broken wing, but on the inside, in a place that’s too deep for me to see, or touch.

So sail away with me today, for adventure, for fun, for a break.  In fact, I am leaving at 9 AM today. I will make it fun. Promise. This trip is another chance on life, because you only live once. I’m confident that I’ll be able to spin whatever I bring back into a golden story—and sell it, making the trip a worthwhile business trip coated with fun and soulful adventure.

And I hope I won’t feel a need to turn back, as I’m doing now. I want to return to my basement apartment, knowing that better days are ahead and that I can forget about what might have been in return for what will, even if I have to walk that path alone.

I will be strong because I am a survivor.


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