It is an amazing Saturday, a perfect Houston winter day, although it feels more like spring. I have just finished dancing half naked around the living room for hours, jumping from song to song. I am sure that the neighbors are bewildered as music from every generation and genre pour out the windows, but I am in heaven. I dance and sing for only myself never caring who might peek through the windows. Finally, I stop and slowly crawl up the stairs toward the sun porch. I long for the sun. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs. Resting my chin on my arms I tilt my face to the sun. I have put in the Smiths for this time of soul searching. I sit quietly, just me and the dogs, enjoying the weather and daydreaming the afternoon away. I finally understand that although I am not happy about losing him, I am happy. I love the solitude of being alone. I love spending time doing what I like, with no concerns for what others might think of these actions. I feel completely at peace. I sing along to the music and bask in the perfect Texas day.
Later, I slip into the shower, letting the intense heat wash away all the tension from my body. I start my new past time. I have begun writing blogs in my head. Little journal entries, I try them out and test the texture and tone of them. Many times they take on a rambling life of their own. Sometimes I address them to him, letters from my soul, telling him everything in my heart. Sharing the pain, explaining how I miss him, asking if he misses me too. I wonder if he ever reads this anymore. I don’t try to pretend that I am vital to his life, but I wonder if perhaps on occasion….. I wonder what he thinks as he reads. If he finds it humorous, sad, frustrating or pathetic, this inability I have to quickly cut him from my heart. I fear that it is a mixture of humor and relief that he managed to free himself. I know that I mostly feel a deep humiliation; I acted like such a love sick fool. I let the water wash away all the pain, and emerge feeling again at peace.
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