Moving on.

It’s one of those days where I feel physically ill, my insides knotted into a clump, my head pounding with each heart beat; worst of all I feel so very alone. These days come less, and with that comes a promise that this shall all someday pass. some days everything feels ok. This tiny apartment that costs too much, my car that has a personal vendetta against me, my beautiful Grade Three’s, the absence of my pup, the many changed relationships and hollow phone calls with boys. Amidst the beginnings of this new life I’m building, I manage to find a little bit of peace, some happiness, and hope. Through Yoga, visits with friends, sometimes just a special moment, I manage to find excitement for the life that waits. Yet today I am unable to leave this damn squeaky bed, I’m riddled with thoughts that perhaps Blake and I should just work it out. Life was so easy with him. Bills always paid, garbage’s taken out, cars filled up and maintained, plenty of money to spend. It becomes harder to grip onto the memories of hurt from those last months, of the loneliness, of our quiet empty home where dreams hung in the air just out of reach. I know he loved me and he still does, but was it ever enough? Is it now? He’s quick to be there for me if I need anything, like money for the contact lenses I can no longer afford. His final words play over in my mind “I cried a lot when I went home last time I saw you, do you think it’s because I feel guilty for how sad you are, or cause I miss you?” what an awful thing to say, is it possible that we both just need to move on? And how exactly does one do that?