The Hiatus

I dropped the first starfish I found and watched in horror as it was torn apart by fish. It limped across the bottom of the ocean, one leg on a stump of a body, greatly mamed, but somehow alive and kicking. All I wanted was to see a starfish on holiday and I got exactly the scrawny, limping creature that mimiced my life of the moment.

The beau and I have escaped a break up through several solid runs at it in the last month. My family I still love as I learn to make myself happy despite the disappointment and disapproval that surely should be reserved for crimes much worse. My job remains in tact despite my company misreporting financials and chopping budgets left and right. My figure still barely skiffs into my jeans and my money problems are looking a bit more manageable. The skin of my teeth is how I’ve been playing the game and I’m ready for some new rules.

The holidays are particularly hard. If I was married, I’d happily share a bed with my spouse every night. You can’t fully appreciate this until it’s gone and you’re alone the day after a holiday in a house full of people who love you and treat you like you’re 15 again.

 ‘Stuck in Love’ is the movie you shouldn’t be up watching with a glass of red wine. The multiple coming of age tales interwoven with the divorce and ebbs and flows of a marriage that can’t make sense until you manage to screw one up yourself. You’re old enough that the coming of age stories are nostalgic. Your birthday is next week.

You have to stop overthinking and second guessing. You should stop wasting time on Facebook and write more. You should really open up and love this really good guy who loves you. You should stop looking for reasons why it won’t work. You should stop looking down the rabbit hole of the past; there are no more rainy days. You should forget everything and everyone who treated you poorly and isn’t a part of this beautiful time as it’s certainly fleeting.


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