Yesterday was kind of rough, guys. It wasn't a completely awful day at all actually, but one that, when I got home, made me cry a little bit. It wasn't a big thing, something devastating didn't happen. And to be honest, I don't know where it took a turn for the bad.
I got a lot done at work. Only minor frustrations and nothing big. I got to go outside and enjoy the weather. I got coffee with Mandy. I ate organic apple sauce for Pete's sake!
At some point in the afternoon I checked Facebook and saw that the DJ had posted a bunch of pictures of him with an ex girlfriend. An ex that he had said he regretted messing things up with. They were sitting a little too close on the couch, and the light in the pictures showed he had spent quite a significant amount of time with her. He was wearing a shirt I bought him right before we broke up. None of this is something unexpected. None of this is shocking. None of this is something I wasn't fully aware was happening with a bunch of his ex girlfriends. And I'm not particularly hurt by it.... except that it hurts. Ya know? Maybe it's just a little twinge of sadness that I know just how over we are. Maybe I'm a little jealous that he's so able to jump back in the singles circus and I've never been less interested in dating. I took him off my news feed so that I'm no longer bombarded by images and updates and his tagging 4 million new and old women. It's enough. When I was looking at the pictures, it was like I recognized the face, but not the person. I don't really remember what his voice sounds like, or what it felt like to kiss him or to laugh with him. I remember really liking his eyes but I don't quite remember the exact color or depth of them now. I don't exactly remember all the things that I loved about him, or all the little annoying habits he had. It just feels a little bit like a void where he once was. Or a memory from a really long time ago, or maybe a dream. Maybe I'm progressing nicely right on into acceptance. Maybe the hurt is almost over.
I went home and found a birthday card from my grandfather, Papa. Only Papa. This is the first card I've ever gotten that didn't have Nanny's name on it. It was weird and unfamiliar and another reminder that somebody I love so much and care about so deeply is no longer with me.
So I cried. Not a lot. Maybe a tear or two. But it was enough. And then I called Papa.
Papa didn't know that the DJ and I had broken up, so I told him. He said that it was too bad, and that he thought the DJ seemed like a really great guy. I told him I had thought so, too. Papa said he was glad I found out before things went too far. I agreed. My dad just happened to be visiting Papa when I called, so I got to talk to both of them for a while, which was a lot of fun. And my mood started to lighten up. It was good to hear my Papa's deep but kind of quiet laugh again, which I haven't heard since Nanny died. I think my dad can make just about anybody laugh.
Thanks to Puka and her procrastination inducing behavior, I didn't do anything at all last night. The premiers of Nurse Jackie and United States of Tara were last night which of course made me feel better. They really never disappoint. Except that my DVR wasn't recording the things that I told it to record over the weekend to make sure I wouldn't miss the first 5 minutes of either premier, and so, of course, I did. And had to wait for the encore showing. ANNOYING. Also? Guess who posted on my facebook post about this aggravation? The DJ. Ever wanted to avoid something and then you find out you just can't? That is only slightly less annoying than the DVR thing.
But today everything is OK. The sun is shining.... um.... you know what? That's all I got. But the sun is shining, and so there's that, and I'm OK with that. And things are getting better and easier... I think... and I'm looking forward to just being OK again.