And So It Ends...and/or Begins

It appears that our Rumspringa will end soon. We wandered from the familiar and will now consider those experiences to issue a verdict as to whether or not to return to one other. If we both come to the same decision, we are promising that we will do our damndest to remain connected for the long haul, that we plan to spend our lives together, grow old side by side, and leave one grieving when the other dies.  This is kind of a big deal.

The nearly six months we've been apart(ish) have been challenging and amazing. Personally, I have grown by leaps and bounds, grabbing my career by the horns, embracing friendships and fitness feats, and proving my worth to myself and my children. (I also cried a lot. And that's cool.) This version of me is stronger, smarter, and more independent than any previous model.

I'm fairly certain that I would not be the confident woman I am today if we had not separated. I was fearful and unhappy during those final months and I'm grateful to him for setting me free. I had not spent enough of my life alone to understand my potential. And I doubt we would have considered stepping into a permanent relationship without the break from one another. There were too many questions that only time apart could answer. 

Seems like the traditional way of permanent partnering (or the illusion thereof) starts with a few dates, grows into a relationship, then finally surrenders into a long-term something with little opportunity to explore the uncertainties that will inevitably crop up. It works for some, but not so much for many, many others.

In just a few days we will lay our cards on the table and declare our wishes for the future. And if this relationship does move into its final chapter, we will have both spent time exploring ourselves and others, weighing what we learned against what we know of our powerful love, and understand that ours is a partnership worth nurturing...for a long, long, long time.

Same Song, Second (or third or fourth) Verse

My car is idling outside a club while I hope he'll come out and go home with me instead of the hot blonde who speaks three languages and has her shit just a little more together than I do mine.

This is foolish. My smart, strong girl self knows this. I am so fearful of never again feeling what we had that I won't budge, refreshing my lipstick, sucking in my tummy, and checking my hair so that if his head turns my way, I catch his glance.

This happens every few weeks. I sit quietly for just long enough to get angry, then sad, then my stomach ties itself into knots, reliving the break up again...and again...and yet again. I hear myself say that I deserve better. I see myself stomp my foot and announce I am no longer going to be tethered to an uncertain love. I feel myself brace my backbone and rehearse a bold statement that goes something like, "I am done. I will keep your family as my friends, but you are no longer a critical part of my life." Then I roll my eyes because I know I can't say those words aloud.

I can only assume these frustrated feelings will melt to the ground and I'll fall back into hopeful mode the next time we hug. Our embraces are powerful, healing, if not deceiving demonstrations of love, passion, and connection. Our history is deep and wonderful. Our friendship is precious. This is not a simple something to walk from, but at the very least, I must start taking baby steps away from what we are.

He's a runner. If he realizes he's ready to love me completely, I'm sure he can catch up with me.