A few My Pixie Blog-related announcements: Please stop by and show some love to Life Without Pink, a very awesome mommy blog I discovered this week because it was featured at The Lady Bloggers Society. Tina has graciously featured my blog in her Friday Favorites. Thank you, Tina. I’m truly honored!
Earlier this week, Shana at Fumbling Towards Normalcy gave me a shout-out and I wanted to return the favor. I have always felt a strong connection with her since I started blogging. She details her experiences working in the craziest city on Earth and the life lessons she bestows on her readers always leave me wanting more. She is worth a read–please go check her out, NOW!
A voice from my past with Jackson emerged recently which stirred up many emotions I hadn’t experienced in a while. I was caught off guard and in a bit of a fragile state when the distant friend reappeared in my life via Facebook messenger in the middle of the night. In case you read this, I want you to know I will love you always and that I miss you dearly. I think the world of you and those around you. I am here to chat whenever.
My Fourth of July was a bit different this year, but I had a great time nonetheless. I celebrated with one of my best girlfriends, kicking back strawberry daiquiris and wincing as her husband and his friends set off some fireworks on their driveway. [As an aside, maybe it’s because I have a vagina, but what is it with men and explosives? Just curious.] We waded in an inflatable pool and reminisced about old times and discussed some of my recent dating mishaps. It was great to reconnect with her and to meet some of her friends.
I stayed at my parent’s house that weekend (primarily so I could steal the car to visit old buddies). When I returned later that evening, I was in a very pensive mood. It was on Independence Day last year when I told Jackson we should split. I actually took a photo just before the fireworks went off (literally and figuratively); it was the last one of us ever taken together. It was just days after we had returned from Hawaii and I was still feeling a bit jetlagged and more than a little devastated after a proposal-less vacation. That day signified the beginning of the end and the point at which I realized I needed to make some serious life changes. I couldn’t escape it; thoughts of my life a year ago weighed heavily on my mind this Fourth of July.
I needed some fresh air. Armed with a tall glass of Riesling and a Marlboro red I had taken from the nightstand in my parent’s bedroom, I made my way to the backyard, happy for some alone time in the suburbs. Life in Hoboken doesn’t allow for much stillness and I always welcome the opportunity to be in the presence of fireflies and to hear the chorus of crickets.
But my thoughts were cloudy and self-doubt grabbed hold of me yet again. In my 31 years on this planet I have never been so determined to transform my life, and yet, here I am still feeling pretty banged up about a breakup nine months later. It’s maddening. I’ve tried everything: Meditation. Yoga. Writing. Spending more time with friends. Spending less time focusing on the past. Opening up to the idea of a new romance. Meeting strangers. Having rebound sex.
And yet, I still face the same demons and wonder why I’m hung up on the ghost of a relationship with the one person I would never want to date ever again.
Why do I keep returning to this place and how do I move forward? What makes the hurt go away?