I quit her, I did.
Not cold turkey, like I would have liked to–you see, they don’t make a patch for this kind of thing. And she didn’t go away that easily. There were a few weeks of late night texts after too much wine. Cigarettes smoked hoping that while I watched the slow orange burn and the smoke rise and twirl and disappear that she’d disappear with it.
But she didn’t.
And several times, just after I’d thought I’d forgotten about her, she’d catch me on Facebook chat or her name would appear on the screen of my phone and I’d be right back where I was, only days before. She’d reel me in just to make sure I was on the end of the line, to make sure she’d still had something floating out there and I’d be elated because, you know, she hadn’t forgotten about me and she was thinking about me, too…or something. For a while, she made it impossible to forget her, to move on. I’d be feeling good, feeling strong, feeling like me…and suddenly a whistle from my phone would produce 20 characters on that white pixelated screen and boom, she was back. And I was back. Reeling.
So I quit trying to lose her in the bottom of glasses of wine that clouded my vision of what this was. I blocked her on chat, unsubscribed from her feed on Facebook, deleted photos stored on my computer. And I quit trying to make her disappear into the air on the wings of exhaled smoke and I decided to get real. And get strong.
It has been over a month since I’ve seen her face. Shared a laugh or a kiss or a story in person. And I do miss her. I miss her smile and the fact that she could cook far better than I can. I miss her carefree spirit and the lazy Sunday mornings and the conversations spent over endless mugs of coffee and Denver omelettes. I even miss the nights when I’d lie awake listening to her snore after we’d been out for drinks. I miss what I wanted her to be in my world.
I do not, however, miss the insecurity. The questioning. The lack of communication and the struggle I felt when trying to define where I fit in this person’s world. I do not miss the unreturned texts, the cryptic messages. I do not miss questioning my value, my worth.
Am I better? Absolutely.
Am I still a little heart hurt? Yes…but that’s waning.
I am better.