Looking back now, I realize that we never really did work out too well for each other. I was always fighting, it seemed, to redeem the relationship we had. Whatever rationalizations I make now, they do nothing to help me heal from the hurt that I suffered.
I never wanted kids. When I was younger, when Adam proposed to me, and even almost six years into our relationship, I never wanted kids. I had finally reached the point where I thought that maybe this guy would be a great dad, and that maybe we could have kids after we got married.
But then 7 weeks later it all came to a crashing halt. I'm still reeling from the fact that he was able to call me and tell me that we were over. I go down to Ceres still because I have 6 years of stuff that I've amassed and no place to put it. I live in a travel trailer that barely holds all my stuff, and won't hold my photo enlarger or rocking chair.
I miss the comfort of living in a nice house, of being able to watch the shows that I've grown to love, and I miss more than anything the ability to use a kitchen to create gorgeous meals. But the depression sets in when I realize that neither of us were really happy, and that I'm really only missing things, not missing Adam so much.
What scared me more than anything was meeting Kris. We work together, like Adam and I did when we first met. My fear was that I was going after some rebound, that I just wanted to feel those carnal human sexual instincts that I hadn't felt in over three months.
But it grew into something more. Now I'm head over heels for this guy, and he is for me. I realize this is the honeymoon period for us, but I'm still excited nonetheless for what I have. I moved back to the one place I never wanted to live again, and now I'm warming up to the idea of kids.
It's as if the last 6 years of my life were a mulligan, like they don't count and I can start over, feeling fresh and un-jaded over the prospect of love. It's a wonderful feeling. Thankfully, the last 6 years have taught me a lot. I will never again remain the silent partner, my happiness is just as important as his now. I'm not going to make excuses for people anymore, and I'm not going to be the only one busting ass to make everything work.
These are obvious to anyone, even myself, but once you put the gauze over your eyes, it all becomes hazy while you live in a world of self created denial.
It feels good to be alive right now. I'm looking forward to the future and what it brings.
