I got “the call” yesterday from the Enjoying the Moment man. The I’ve-fallen-for-someone-else-but-I-really-like-you-and-still-want-to-be-friends call. I’m not surprised. The writing was on the wall from the get go. I was genuinely happy for him. I will root for romance, it seems, even if it spells my own heartache.
The trouble was, that I fell. Just a bit, but there it was. I tried digging in my heels as I slid down that muddy slope, scraping my bum along the way, getting dirt in my fingernails. There was something in the way he looked at me, and kissed, and a familiarity I hadn’t felt in a long time. As odd as it sounds I felt safe in his arms for the first time since Arron died. Perhaps I was fooling myself about the connection that I had with him, but it seemed real, and that is rare stuff indeed.
I am relieved in a way, to be spared the wondering, the uncertainty. Perhaps I will be able to stop popping the Pepcid.
I guess the good news is that I am awake. Alive in a bonked in the head kind of way. I just wonder how much self-inflicted scarring this poor little heart of mine can take.