This past weekend I went to NYC to visit my friend. After the week away together, I missed him so badly and wanted to see if what we felt when we were on vacation was in fact real.
I still don’t know.
It’s such a weird scenario. Anyway, after a long drive straight from work (I really don’t do well by myself on long drives), I arrived in NYC and checked into my hotel a little after 8. It was surreal and exciting to be there on my own. Although I take not infrequent day trips into the city, I don’t typically stay overnight. I texted him to let him know I was there, then changed and started refreshing myself a bit. Tried out some new lotion that I love the scent of and broke out all over in hives. Jumped in the shower to wash it all off. I am sure I was still covered in hives when he arrived.
He came up and we hugged, and he seemed so happy to see me. We gathered my things and headed out to a really super dinner at a charming and romantic restaurant. So happy to be in his company. We talked about so many things. We talked about us. I am so confused about all of it now. When we walked outside after finishing our meal, he kissed me for the first time.
Afterwards, we walked around and headed back to my hotel, and lay down on the bed and cuddled and breathed in deep. We cuddled and talked and kissed for hours. And then he had to go. I walked down with him to wait while he grabbed a cab, shaking with cold and fatigue and emotion. I think I went to bed around 4 am. Alone.
The next day I woke up so early and had a therapy session by phone, and after trying to sleep a bit more, I gave up and headed out into the city. I walked all over Chelsea and Union Square, had lunch on my own, headed to the High Line. It was a gorgeous spring-like day, the sun out, so warm I had to take off my coat. What a joy after such a long winter.
I thoroughly enjoyed my time alone out and about, a break from home and work…. He came by around 4 pm, and we set out for Tiffany’s (where he bought me a lovely bracelet to keep him in my mind), went to the Met, went out for dinner. It was fun and sad, both. All the time, the clock is ticking. All the time, these random comments from him about the difficulty of his situation. And all the time I’m thinking “oh come on, buddy, I made it, with no money, which isn’t even a worry here, I don’t believe excuses, I don’t believe it’s “impossible”, I also am not convinced that it’s “over with her” or “all her fault”…”
We went back to the hotel where he promptly fell asleep on top of the bed (he does this, it’s a little annoying), and I kicked him out around 3 am because I had to get some sleep so I could drive home safely the next day. And I went to bed. Alone.
The next morning, I went and walked around the Village for a bit, our old grad school stomping grounds. He could not come and see me for even one minute. Finally I decided this was nonsense and I needed to go home. Sitting in traffic on the west side highway, I sobbed on the phone to my sister.
I don’t want to be in this situation, but I’m just not ready to say that to him yet. I’m curious to see what he does. But if he takes any action, I don’t want it to be for me, I want him to be setting himself free for his own life. I didn’t go through the nightmare of my own divorce and all the other life crap to allow myself to be subject to someone else’s marriage, in all honesty. I wonder if the stats show that previously married people are less likely or more likely to get involved with someone who is married. I’m staying on the edges of this for the moment, I don’t want to get burned, and I don’t want to lose my friendship with him.
Last night in the middle of writing this, he texted me and asked me to call. We had quite the discussion. A conversation is coming, but not yet.
I still don’t know how I feel. Confused. Annoyed. Skeptical. Like I may be taking a detour from where I am actually supposed to go. Or maybe I need to be going here for a visit in order to sort it out.
Maybe that’s what’s in it for me.
It’s all so puzzling that I don’t know what to write. The past several days have been really quite busy, so many balls in the air. In the midst of it all, I have been going back in time here, and reading some of the things I wrote two, three years ago.
Funny, back then it seemed I was so much more dissembled, but when I read what I wrote, I see myself so much more together. Or maybe my writing was more organized when I was a mess. Something like that.
The past few days have been a settling back in to some sort of normal. I finally for-good ended the relationship with my now definitely ex-boyfriend. After a series of accusatory, nasty messages that he sent to me on Facebook, and a refusal to meet with me in person to talk a bit, I sent him an email that said I could not be in a relationship with him, that we are not compatible and it’s no one’s fault, and I wish him happiness and peace in his heart. It feels right, I’m not even the tiniest bit sad. I ran into him that evening at some fundraiser thing – he came over to say hello, and then said, “this is awkward and confusing”. I replied, “what’s the confusing part?” One door closes…
I’ve had a job interview. It went pretty well but I don’t think I’ll totally measure up as a final candidate. There’s a bit of a hole in what I would bring to the position – the recruiter mentioned it, I know it’s a weak spot. That’s okay. It was fun to explore a new possibility. It makes me feel like my life is in motion.
And actually, I feel like my life is in fact in motion. And it is a great feeling. Without feeling like I need to be dating – because, you know, I’m in love with someone and that’s just how it is right now – I am rediscovering my girlfriends. And it’s awesome. It turns out I have more friends than I thought I did. A bout here and there of shrieking with laughter, and it just makes more things seem right in the world than wrong.
The scariest thing on my plate is this love thing. So far we have spoken every night since we returned. I miss him. He is in the midst of his own familial turmoil, and I wish I could help. But there is nothing I can do except be who I have always been to him, his friend, and now whatever it is we are. And see what happens.
That uncertainty scares me quite a bit. I had started to coalesce dreams and plans of my own, and then, voila, it turns out I’m in love with someone and it’s a game-changer. Maybe. That rests quite a bit on him.
He called me last night, and told me he can’t stand it any more and he needs to get divorced – not because of me, you understand, but because his marriage is truly a toxic one. It has been for a long time, before this stuff happened. He told me also his dad took ill yesterday, and it freaked him out. His wife is on the warpath. Boy, do I not want any of this to be the scenario.
This weekend I am making a trip to NYC. I want to see him, to see if it feels real in real life. I want to just touch his hand. I want to see his face. I want to lie wrapped in his arms. And just breathe.
I don’t know where any of this goes, but at least I’m going, living, breathing, loving, laughing, exploring.
Now if only I could find the inspiration to really give my house a good cleaning. I think I will need the motivation of spring, if it ever gets here. What a long winter.
What a loooonnnngggg week. Between jetlag, falling in love in an impossible (seemingly) situation, catching up at work, and the usual stuff, like laundry, and clingy cats, I bailed on heading out for a Friday night, and am just chilling at home.
Well, not really. Turns out the ear infection I had before my trip never fully cleared up, so they cleaned out my ear again, and put me back on antibiotics, and I feel all itchy, which I am 99% sure is due to the fact that I am worried I will have a reaction to the antibiotics…
Did I ever mention that I had chronic hives for five YEARS, and they stopped within two weeks after my ex moved out?
Anyway, my ex-boyfriend/boyfriend worked himself into a tizzy exemplified in his erratic and inconsistent nasty texts, and ended up breaking up with himself for me, “for good”. I don’t even know how to respond to this. I was going to tell him I can’t be in a relationship right now anyway, but I was taking a few days to recover from my travels and think things through and he lost patience. Ah well. He’s not for me. The not being patient bit when I am in reflection mode is a deal breaker anyway. So were his passive aggressiveness and his accusations and suspicions and jealousy. I have not responded to his last text. Frankly I am too tired.
While that was going on today, my ex called me to scream at me about wanting to tell me what to do with the share of his annual commission that he gives me as child support. Screaming. Dear lord. Somehow the subject changed and the next thing you know he’s giving me advice on how to handle the other guy in the paragraph above. Weird.
On top of that I had a job interview this morning, which would have a 100 miles each way commute. But which would be a 50% raise and a great opportunity. I think the interview went well (the rest of the day sucked, so something should go well…).
All week I have been processing this situation with my best friend. %$#^@ is all I can say. Whatever happens, I am going to need to deal with the fact that I am in love with him. I forget how to make myself stop loving someone. Maybe you never do.
The other night we talked about the past. It turns out what he remembers is that he was too shy to make a move. I was too shy to provide obvious signals. So we each found others who were not too shy to make a move and not to shy to provide obvious signals.
He told me I’m the one who got away, and now he has this hope that I’ve come back to stay. I really don’t know what to do. So I am just going to see how this feels now we are back in real life. The sheer distance alone is a challenge. The fact that he shares an apartment (but not a bedroom – the arrangement is the kids plus his wife in one room, and him in the other) with his wife is a huge impediment, because how much can I spend going to see him? And unless he wants to be blatant about it, he is not going to be able to come here.
So we spend hours on the phone and we talk and talk and talk. And I want to see him so badly. I want to see him to see whether, in real life, I still feel the same as I did across the ocean in that bubble of a week in London.
To me, he is the one that I never thought would love me back, so after a few years of waiting, I had moved on. But it’s all come back. And I am as insecure as a 16 year old again. I fully expect that he will bail. And I will hurt.
But I have not been so sure about how I feel about someone in such a long time. And that is a good thing, really. Because now I have been reminded what love, real love, feels like.
I needed the reminder.
It’s been so long since I traveled to another country that I had forgotten how difficult jetlag can be upon the return home. It doesn’t really bother me too much when I am vacationing, because you can rest when you need to, you’re out of your element anyway, so feeling out of your mind goes along with it. Now that I am back and ramping right back up to work, I realize how tired I am and out of sync with my day. I swear I could only speak full sentences half the time today without losing my train of thought.
So now that I am back…. This is all just so weird. Seriously. So much to process. Seeing old friends from another era, another place. This metamorphosis of my friendship into potentially something else, when for 25 years it has been a friendship. I have my ex-boyfriend/boyfriend chomping at the bit to connect, and I just don’t want to right now, but I don’t want to say that because I am clearly not thinking clearly.
My brain is mush. My body is not tired, but my brain cannot function. Weird things, circadian rhythms. I could never work a job where my shift varied. I once looked into volunteering at a suicide hotline, and it was mandatory to do an overnight (10 hour) shift once a month for the first year. There was no way, I had to turn it down.
I know I need rest and sleep and that with enough of that, I will start to sort through things. I honestly don’t know what I want here. I see drama and hurt and challenge written all over this scenario. He wants to try to make it work. The texts I get from him are not the usual texts I get from him, you know? Instead of friend texts, it’s something like “before we talk tonight I want to let you know that I miss you so much it hurts”. I don’t want it to get weird and mushy. I want my friend to be who he has always been. And I want him to be more. But I don’t want to trade one version for another version. But I love him. But do I really know him?
Okay, I do not trust this, universe. I have met too many people going through divorces or in bad marriages who latch onto fantasy to either make it easy to stay in or easy to get out, and then pouf! I know in my rational mind that he needs to sort his shit out. Eh, we’ll see. I need to talk to someone – and that someone is him and I can’t because that is in a different reality.
I don’t want anyone to get hurt, not me, not him, not his wife, not his kids… not my ex-boyfriend/boyfriend either. No one. But. I do know that living a life where none of your actions ever cause hurt is not a life lived.
I am sooooo tired. We are supposed to talk tonight, and it’s late and I want to sleep.
Maybe the whole experience is an alternate reality created by jetlag. That would actually make much more sense.
I am sitting at the airport waiting for my shuttle. It’s about an hour longer wait and then 2 hours to where my sister will pick me up, and another half hour to her house. Spending the night there then driving home tomorrow with my son.
What a confusing and wonderful week. It would seem that we have fallen in love over the past year. Hours-long phone calls late at night through difficult times for both of us. We’ve known each other for 25 years and we just never connected at the right time. And now? It seems that after 25 years we have found one another.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want to screw up anyone’s marriage. His marriage is bad in a big way. His health is not good. His wife is abusive and horrible. They have two young children, one with special needs. They have an apartment in a building in NYC owned by his dad and him and his sister. His wife would likely get half his share and that is millions of dollars. It would be a horrific divorce. He is afraid of her and what she might do. If it were any other guy telling me this crap, I would not believe any of it. But he is my friend, and I know this all to be true.
We did not have sex. We did not even kiss (well, he had a cold sore and then came down with a cold) — I think we were afraid to. We held hands, we cuddled, we touched, we held each other. Last night we slept together curled up in a twin bed and it was wonderful.
But we did not have sex. He did not want to lie to his wife and I did not want to cheapen what is happening. It was the right decision. Who knows what lies ahead.
We visited castles and met up with old friends of mine from years before in London. We talked and laughed and it was amazing.
On the plane back, I upgraded my seat so we could sit together. At first it was fun and wonderful. Holding hands, my head on his shoulder… Then I started to cry and could not stop for a long time. At one point, I looked up and he was crying too. He told me the week was magical and an incredible dream. I feel the same way.
I don’t know what will happen. We will continue to talk. We will continue to be friends. But now we know. I can’t change the fact that I love him and he loves me.
I know this sounds like classic bullshit. And I don’t want this scenario. But life is messy. And now I know how I feel. Self-awareness is a good thing.
I love him. And he loves me. And that’s all we have right now.
Day 5 now of our stay in London. I’m having an okay time. It’s not the trip I expected. My friend has one set of keys which I apparently cannot borrow. So I feel like I am stuck wherever he happens to be. I’m being treated like a child. It’s making me crazy.
Not that I can’t go off on my own. I do, a bit. Run out for coffee in the morning alone. Then I have to ring the stupid buzzer when I get back so that he gets up and let’s me in. I saw an old friend of mine for a drink yesterday on my own, and my friend was supposed to take a nap. But he couldn’t sleep while I was gone. He gets so anxious being alone. I don’t think it is specific to me.
Yesterday morning I felt so sad about the cuddling. And yet last night we cuddled again. He said “only two more days, it’s not long enough”. I’m not sure what is going on here for him and I don’t want to ask and make things weird. So I stay quiet even though it’s unspoken weird.
I am not sure what to do. So I am going with the flow. There will be no nooky that’s certain. I’m not going there. Right now I’m thinking that when I get home, we should de-intensify this friendship for a while.
This is not my path. That, I know in my heart.
Today I am writing from my best friend’s family’s little mews house in London. I haven’t been in London in about 20 years. Last time I was here, my parents were living here for a couple of years, I was in grad school and I would come to visit. It feels unfamiliar now. Weird in fact. Odd to think that I grew up in Europe and now it feels off.
Anyway, so far I have had a chance to meet up with a few of my old high school friends (high school was in Portugal but a number of my friends from then live here now). It was great to see them and catch up. Funny how they remember me in a far more glowing light than I remember myself. It’s nice. I feel bathed in self-worth somehow. I really was as important to them as they were to me. It makes me want to cry. I wish I had realized it back then.
So here I am with my best friend. My best friend is a guy. This is both good and bad. It bothers some people — the guy I have been seeing on and off (and that’s maybe back on) as well as my best friend’s wife (no shock there). We have known one another 25 years, met during grad school. An intense time, grad school is no picnic and I was at the time having difficulty in my first marriage. At that time, I feel quite in love with this friend of mine. But I was married and then divorcing, and he was coming out of a long term relationship and a few years younger than me. So it went nowhere and we became fast friends, telling each other everything. He was there for me when I was falling apart through my first divorce, through my first post-separation relationship, through the early years of grad school.
Over the years our friendship faded in and out. I got pregnant and remarried and the chats grew quiet. He became very ill and got better and married. We got back in touch when his first child was born several years ago. And the friendship fell back into place as if the years had not happened.
Now it has become the most important relationship in my life. Which is not, I think, a good thing. We talk every night for hours. He gives me advice on dating, I support him through some serious health issues. I listen to his woes about his marriage. He has listened to me when I cry about my mom and my world. We are at ease with one another. It seems natural to be here with him. Although I am not *with* him.
So last night, our third night here, it seemed natural to lie on a narrow twin bed and hold one another. We fit together like it should always have been that way. We talked and talked. And then he went to have a snack and I went to sleep, alone.
I don’t want to fall in love with him. I don’t want to lose him. I need his friendship. It would be the most natural thing to fall in love with him but he is married and we live 200 miles apart. I have this vision of this relationship being an emotional connection that keeps him going through a difficult marriage but prevents me from meeting and being in a relationship with someone who is fully available to me. I want to talk to someone about this but he is the one I talk to and I can’t talk to him about this.
I get the sense that he wants me to be able to be there for him in this way without recognizing what it would mean for me. It is the first time I do not feel like he has my best interest at heart.
We are here for four more days. I both want to be here and I want to go home. I want him to hold me and I want him to leave me alone. I want to lie in bed and have him wrap his arms around me. I want him to tell me he loves me. For this week, if he were to say that, it would be enough. I can’t see it being more. For this week, I want to know he loves me.
And then, I’ll get back to my life. And put him back in that friend zone, and get back to business.
Tonight I stepped big-time outside of my comfort zone. Actually this whole weekend is whacked. Three dates in one weekend. While I am actually still crying over my recent relationship. After this, that’s it for a bit, I think.
Last night I went on a second date, a dinner after an initial coffee date, and I guess I kind of enjoyed myself. We had spoken on the phone enough times for me to feel a certain level of comfort. So when we met up, I had just come down off a crying jag over my now apparently ex-boyfriend/ex-friend. And at first it was okay. Except he kept talking about how he’s a foodie. This guy is adding more labels to himself faster than I can drive. He’s a foodie, an anglophile, a prog-rock aficionado. Last night he added ACLU member. Also, asshole.
During dinner, he derided a whole bunch of things. He’s funny and witty, but disparaging. Only a matter of time before that gets turned on friends, girlfriends, that’s what I’m thinking.
Also, he used the “c” word. I’m not going to spell it out, but you know what that is. I said, don’t use that word. He replied, “I know it’s bad, but she is.” I said no again.
Then I told a story, and I guess it was a bit long-winded but it needed the details to make it work. As we said goodnight outside the restaurant, with a hug, he said “don’t ever tell me that long story again, the only reason I listened was because it had to do with the ACLU but that was awful”.
He asked me if I wanted to get together again. I said sure, because my assertiveness skills are fucking lacking. But I won’t. He called this morning, I let it go to voicemail, I’ll follow up with thanks, it was great, but I don’t think we’re a good fit.
I miss my friend.
Tonight I went on a blind date set up by the newspaper. You know, they pay for your dinner, match you up, and then you have to write about it. In the paper. And your date writes about you. Sigh.
I dressed nicely, not overdone or uncomfortable. I was determined to be as pleasant a date as possible, because, you know, he’s going to write about me. I got there early, and knew who he was as soon as he walked in the door.
He was wearing a striped velvet blazer, about ten years older than me. Blech. For the next three hours, he was on a roll. At first, the conversation was okay. He didn’t like his drink and sent it back. He didn’t refer to his ex-wife as his ex-wife, although she is in fact his ex-wife. On paper, I imagine he is interesting – he’s an architect, has done some well-known projects, he’s involved in all sorts of artistic endeavors, proud dad of three kids in their 20s….
But he did. Not. Shut. Up. I could not get a word in, really. I nodded and smiled and ate (once he finally allowed the waiter to take our order). I offered up when I could some bits about me. And he asked a few questions, and then turned the conversation back on himself.
At one point, I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room, where I had to fight with myself to not call my ex-boyfriend/ex-friend, sobbing and telling him I miss him and love him and there’s no one like him.
I feel like I am fucking 15 again. Although not. I’m a grown up so I didn’t call and I went back and sat down, even though I could have left without him seeing me go.
By the end of it, he had picked up speed telling me all the amazing things he’s done and does. He gave me pamphlets of projects to take home. He gave me his card at the end, made the hostess take our picture together, and hugged me in the parking lot.
I miss my friend.
I have no idea what I am going to write about this guy when I get the questionnaire but I’ll make it as nice as I can. I hope he’s nice about it too.
Date number three this weekend tomorrow for the Superbowl. This is insanity.
Come on, universe, I think I deserve better….
What a stupid thing to do, calling my friend (?) on Monday. Last night I had scheduled a gathering of my support group for dinner, and he came, and we had agreed, I guess, that we would talk afterwards. Dinner was okay, a new member came, she seemed so relieved to find people to talk to. That always makes me happy, to bring comfort and company to someone who feels they are alone. So, purpose served.
Anyway, he came back to my house afterwards, and we chatted for a while, and then, I don’t know, we revisited some things. He was actually in retrospect a jerk. Still blaming me, although he did acknowledge he has some issues. He clearly wants nothing more to do with me. He can’t say it. He just kept saying he can’t go back to fighting. Fighting? Really? Sigh. He picked fights over everything. So I guess he can’t go back to that – and neither can I to be honest – but he still cannot see that his negativity and criticism provoked the constant conflict. In fact, I started to avoid him because of that. My memory is fuzzy. I really need it to be fresher.
Anyway, it has left me feeling beat up all over again. I feel discarded, I feel rejected, and I feel bad. Ugh. I am trying to shake it off. It’s hard. It brings up all the other losses, which irrationally feel like someone intentionally left me.
I am so angry. I want to blast him with words and arguments and make him feel as bad as he made me feel. But I won’t do that. I am trying my damndest not to do that on Facebook either. Because that’s not cool. So anger turns inward and I want to cry and scream and fall apart.
At one point last night, I said ‘it’s fine, you do what’s right for you. But I think you owe me an apology.” He looked at me, and in an argumentative tone, said “for what?”
Really? Buddy, if you don’t know, you have a long way to go before you are going to be able to have a relationship with anyone, let alone me.
I keep telling myself that I know what I did that created difficulty, but the things I asked for (more time for myself and my kids and my friends) were not unreasonable requests. He saw that request as kicking him to the curb – he is looking for enmeshment, codependency. Ew.
So I am trying again to get my bearings and to tell myself I am a good person, I’m okay, I am worthy of love. His loss.
Just wish I could believe it and figure out why I want to hold on. I guess I thought I had found the exactly right guy. I should have known when I first thought it was too good to be true, it was in fact too good to be true.
Another lesson learned. I’m not repeating this one. And, truth, he’s no friend of mine.
For the first time since I started this blog, I didn’t write a New Year post. So it goes. My life has been SO confusing these past several months, I don’t even know where to start. I guess my last post was about how I was going to get back on my feet. Eh. The good intentions…. Anyway.
I am having such a hard time with this recent relationship I was in. As the fog of my recent depressive episode starts to slowly clear, I am looking back and trying to figure it all out. Not because I want to get stuck. But because I want to understand so that if I end up in that place again, it won’t take quite so long to get out. My best friend tells me the guy was manipulative and only out for himself… I don’t think that is entirely true. People are usually more complicated than that. I think he saw something in me that he wanted for himself, and he looked to me to bring that to him. What he didn’t, and I think may not be able to grasp, is that it is something that you can only find for yourself, and it is a feeling of self-worth. He was neglected by his mom (apparently – this is just what he has told me) and had no siblings, and his relationship skills are poor. He uses negative means to get attention, having had no other example. From what I can gather, his ex-wife was rather closed, herself having had a difficult childhood.
Anyway, I let myself fall in love with him, didn’t I? There were no real warning signs, until he started to sulk and pout when he didn’t get his way, as the relationship transitioned from the rush and intensity of a new beginning to a need to balance it with real life. If I look back, I remember certain things. On our second (and last) weekend away, he was already feeling insecure after I went away for a night to visit my sister, and he was disoriented by his fear at my being gone. So on the second night of our weekend away, my son called around midnight, worried and anxious and I talked to him for a while (it’s a funny story actually, he got stick deodorant on his teeth and my daughter had already gone to sleep and he panicked). My friend then grew very silent, and I wanted to just go home because I felt guilty being away (I did not say this), and when we got back to the hotel, he washed up and climbed into bed and turned his back to me. We had been seeing each other for four months. Opportunities to spend the night together rarer than finding a new planet. I felt shunned, locked out, dismissed.
There was the time when he ignored me at my big birthday party, all night. The time I invited him to lie with me on my bed, the first time I had felt safe with someone to let them into my sanctuary, and he criticized the color of my bedroom walls. The time I tried to explain my depression and my need for sleep and rest and time for grieving, and he grew angry at my distance, instead of offering his shoulder to lean on and holding me while I cried.
Eh. The stupid thing is we have talked quite a bit on occasions trying to find understanding. I broke it off because the conversations were interfering with my recovery – he was angry and blaming. Angry I think not at me, but at his mother, his ex-wife. He didn’t, couldn’t trust that I cared for him.
Anyway, stupid me, I still miss him. Yesterday I told him that. We talked for a while. I felt good after the conversation. And then little snippets of it creep into my mind. “If we start again, we will have to go really slow.” “I got in over my head.” “I have issues I need to work on.” Warnings. Managing down my expectations. I am so not sure what to do. I hate that.
Right now, I am still grieving the loss of the relationship. But I have started to date again. I am being open to new experiences. I almost had my first one night stand, some sweet guy who bought me drinks when I was out with a few acquaintances on new year’s eve, we kissed at midnight, and I followed him to his hotel room, where we kissed and undressed and cuddled naked in bed. Seeking the comfort of another body. And then I freaked, and ran. (I have seen him once since, can’t tell whether he is in fact single or not, I’ll have to ask again, we are planning to see the Superbowl together.)
I have been on dates with a few other guys, one I plan to see again. It’s exhausting, really. I wonder where my feelings lie for my sweet guy who went sour, whether I am just scared of what’s ahead, of being alone.
My best friend (a guy by the way in case I need to mention that again) tells me I just don’t value myself as much as I should, that I am truly amazing but that I don’t see it. Maybe he’s right. He and I are going away for a trip to London in a few weeks – that’s food for another post. That may be exactly what I need.