As I sit reading more of Wild, I realize my writing has been my "trail." Cheryl, after losing her mother to cancer and getting a divorce, among numerous other things she went through dealing with the grief of her life not turning out the way she'd thought it would, set out to hike the Pacific Crest Trail, alone, to find herself again. Years later, she wrote her book outlining the endeavors of her life, including her three month long hike. [It's a great book by the way!]
If i could hike for three months, if it was something I could actually physically and financially do, I actually might of considered it, as well. But, I've always used my words, my thoughts, my internal revelations while sitting quietly, alone, as my trail. It's something that I've always done. And something I'll continue to do.
It's something I also do alone. People read it of course. People read my book. People read my previous blog. People are reading this new blog. Who is actually reading this new blog, well that's a good question. I have no idea. I can only see that people are.
This wasn't actually my first blog since the ex husband and I separated in the summer of 2014. My first one was titled Sadness, Party of One. [I deleted it long ago, so don't bother looking for it.] The description was Life after husband leaves, the air hurts my heart when I breathe. It was mostly sad poetry. I didn't have my name on it anywhere. No one could find it by searching anything about me. Only a small handful of my very closest friends that I gave the link to ever knew that it even existed. Ironically, one of those, then, closest friends that I shared it with is now with him.
I didn't blog on it for very long. And what was on it was sad. It was just... sad. I went through my days and my life the best I could in the beginning. I was happy... sometimes. When I was with my kids being silly or with friends, or was at work distracted, or was out having fun on dates with new people or drinking. I was good if I had distractions; they made me forget that my heart still hurt so much because I could focus on just what was in front of me then, at that moment, and not the rock that sat in my gut and my chest. A rock that both weighed me down, miserably, and ripped my heart wide open. At the beginning, I was both relieved, and completely and utterly devastated, all at the very same time. It's ridiculous how that can even be a thing. How can that even be a thing? But, it totally is a thing.
The rock has been gone a while now. And I'm okay just being by myself, just being me. So, that's what I'm going to do. For a long time, I wondered if I'd ever feel alright just being by myself, with no other distractions. After making it there, I want to really experience it. For the better part of the last year and and a half, I was seeing at least one person, sometimes two at the same time, and going out with friends a lot. Now that I am okay without the distractions, I feel like I need to continue on the path that just has the one lane for me. I haven't yet reached the end of this particular trail. I still don't fully know who I am, by myself. But, I get a little closer every day.
I'm going to continue to not date or see anyone. How long will this last? Not seeing anyone. I actually ask myself that question. And, I don't have an answer. Because, I have no idea. I'm just playing it all by ear. Just like the previous phases had, it will last as long as it does, until it doesn't anymore.
I didn't want to run around anymore and I didn't want to jump into a defined relationship with someone, either, before I knew I was okay by myself. I could have. But, I'm not going to do that before I even know who I am, without anyone else. Seems a lot of people do that. That does not mean it was the best thing for them. It's just easy to do.
I refuse to do that.
Peace, Love, and chocolate milk with a bendy straw...