Pardon the randomness of this post, but I need to get this out… or something. I’ll probably delete it later.
I’m single… again. Seven years… gone… just like that. *snaps fingers* Wow. I was engaged for the last few years, but we had a talk 26 hours ago and decided this was the best thing to do before we kill one another, or before we hate each other. I rather think the hatred would come before the killing.
At least he’s not leaving me high and dry like I was afraid he would (not that he’s ever been that kind of person, mind you; it’s just my overactive imagination), and he’s giving his support while I get back on my feet and get my head together and my health as close to 100% as I can. We practically were married, with a house and cars and everything but children, unless you count the dogs. Had a foster daughter for 2 years, but she moved out last September. He says he doesn’t want anything. I just want to try to keep the house–or for one of us to keep the house. Aside from that, I don’t know where I’m going to put everything. Do you have any idea how much stuff I have??? My house is not small.
He’s a good man, and a good friend. We love each other, but our goals are different now and they’re splitting us apart.
I hate it when my gut tries to tell me something and I don’t listen.
I’ll be 40 in June, too. Damn.
The dating world has changed completely, as this was discussed with my friend The Schoolteacher around 5 AM yesterday. I wouldn’t even know what to do now. Not that I’m even ready for that yet. It’ll be a while. I think I should probably stop crying first, don’t you? Yeah, that might be a good idea.
Now you may understand some of what I said in the Hope post. It wasn’t all about the need to write.
I am an introvert. I like the hidden worlds I create and spend a good portion of my time in them, with exception to an actual job–if I can find one again. I live in two different worlds most of the time–the real world and my imagination. But I suppose I’m repeating myself there.
If only I could find a man like the characters I create, but unfortunately they don’t exist, even with their flaws. I can handle flaws. I just need someone to accept the fact that I am first and foremost and always will be a writer. I think only an artistic mind will understand that. Maybe. I don’t know.
So, let’s see if I can fall asleep without crying this morning, and then we’ll start a new day when I wake up this afternoon.