This morning I woke up with an ice cream hangover. You get to do that sort of thing after a break up. I was in bed by 6 pm last night with a big ol’ bowl of Blue Bunny’s Bunny Tracks ice cream and the first season of “New Girl” on Netflix. My cell phone was within reach. Just in case he decided to text or call. I knew he wouldn’t, but a girl can still hope.
I stepped out of bed this morning with a raging headache and that rush you get when you stand up too fast, except I stood really really slowly. I literally spun around and had to get my bearings. Told myself (out loud) to just point my feet in the right direction and go.
Then I crumpled back to the bed in a fit of tears.
Yeah. I’m a little messed up right now.
I did the right thing by breaking up with him and choosing God over compromising my values. Yay me, right? Right. Except right now in the haze of the aftermath it feels very wrong. I miss him.
I’m trying to remember the bad things. I never really felt like I was anything special to him. He didn’t even seem to care all that much when I ended it. But there was also a lot of good things about being with him…sigh.
My head is cool with this. I’m back on track with God and I know I’ve spared myself a ton of heartbreak. But my heart is a bit of an idiot and she’s the one reaching for the ice cream and turning on the waterworks every freakin’ chance she gets.
So I’m letting her have her pity party for another day or two. Tops.
This weekend I’m taking my kids to Ocean Beach, Calif. A little sun and sand with my two favorite people is sure to help. Then, in two weeks, I’m off to Atlanta for a writer’s conference.
I’m just going to point my feet in the right direction and go. I may stumble a few times. I might even have to let out a few more tears. I am most definitely going to keep looking at my phone. But I am going to keep moving forward.