Skip to main content

Three Months Later...

Today makes three months since New Boo and I broke up. Here's what's going on...

He and I aren't really speaking.

Tinderfella is quietly making his way to the sidelines.

I am getting better.

I have to admit that yesterday was hard. I was with my friend as she started her online journey to find love. As we looked for a suitable profile picture that would show her beauty and character in one fell swoop, we ran across a picture that she took on her phone during a photo shoot. As we tried to figure out the date, I realized it was taken on a night when I'd asked him to come home. The last time I asked him to come home before we broke up. I couldn't stop myself from crying as I remembered how hurt I was that evening.

She couldn't understand the source of my tears. Honestly, I don't know if she ever understands when I cry over him.

Anyway, that started me on a downward spiral that was further acerbated by a call from a common friend of mine, hers, and formerly New Boo's. She won't call him a friend anymore because of all the foolishness he pulled.

The conversation actually started out via text, and when I told her I'd heard from him, she called. She told me, "Listen, the next time he calls, you call me and come over here. Don't be so available to him. Contrary to popular belief, people aren't always as busy as you think they are and they'll be more than willing to help you get past this thing with him." She went on to tell me that as smart, beautiful, and good-hearted as I am, I don't need to give him anymore room to use me.

You know I needed to hear all of that, right? And you KNOW it set off the water works in a major way. The ONLY thing that saved me from completely drowning was that we were sitting at a Starbucks in Harlem and I wasn't in the mood to be that transparent in public.

That call taught me one thing -- I'm not alone in this even though it feels like I am sometimes. And I needed to know that.

I'm trying to give myself permission to feel this thing the way I need to, but I feel like it gets worse when I do that. But if the saying that it gets darkest before the dawn is really true, the sun should be shining on this situation any day now.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

He's Gone...For Real

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...

A Middle Aged Rant

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...

I Own My Tears

I own my tears. I used this as a hashtag on a Facebook post. I was talking about the movie, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've seen it, you know what I mean, and I won't spoil it for you. Of course, you know me -- it's deeper than that. I need to say it out loud... I own my tears. New Boo meant the world to me. He really did. Our relationship meant the world to me. It really, really did. And now it's over and he's gone -- seemingly for good. That makes me cry more than I want to, and more than I have ever imagined I would. And while I hate it, I need to do this. I need to mourn this thing in its entirety because it has truly changed my life. I own my tears. I own the fact that I am hurt. I own the fact that I'm mourning a relationship that I wanted to work more than life itself. I wanted to be a part of a couple, and eventually a family. That may well happen for me one day. Today, though, it doesn't look likely. So yes, I cry. And you ...