In many ways I have been set free. . . Free from the future that I had so carefully planned, free from the prospect of a marriage to a man who could never truly love me, free to create a life on my own . . . I've been simply set free. . .
But I've discovered that "freedom" is, (at first?), terribly discomfiting. I'm fearful of the new wings I've been granted. I haven't learned to control them and glide along. . . Rather, my flights come in short, powerful bursts that leave me breathless and generally end with a crash-landing. See. . .
- my apartment catastrophe
- my craigslist fiasco
- the bicycle incident
- my first few attempts to "see" other people . . . ugh.
I miss Badger. But I know he's bad for me. I feel like an addict: The only thing I crave is the one thing that is the very worst for me. The drug has been taken away for good, and I find myself in rehab . . .
And I wonder if he misses me. I'm still so hurt. How long will it take for this wound to heal? I'm happy for fall. . . October has always been my favorite month. . . and it's almost here. I can smell the leaves turning already. . . come on, Autumn. Take me home. . .
No comments:
Post a Comment