Talking it out…

So… yeah… last post? A bit raw.  Sorry.  No warning on that one.  Just needed to start talking about what we’re going through.  Because the whole “not talking about it” thing? Well that just wasn’t working out for me.  For either of us actually.  While Bob might be okay with it, I am not the type that suffers in silence.

Um, no.

So I started talking.  And now I’m doing it again.  Because you know, I think I’m a little angry right now.  And this is a good spot for me to voice that.  Let that out.  Give myself permission to be angry.  And let it go.

(cue chorus of most. annoying. song. ever.)

I am angry.  Very angry.  This year was not supposed to be like this.  This year was supposed to be about us.  What we want. What we need.  And it isn’t.  Not at all.  And it’s not likely to change any time soon.  And I am angry.

Very angry.

We’ve needed the year we had planned for a very long time.  A year of introspection, working on us, doing what we need to make us better.  It’s easy for that stuff to get lost in the busyness that daily life brings.  But we had decided to recalibrate and make the effort to refind ourselves.  To work on us.  After we had worked on our diet, our exercise, education… this was our time.

But it’s not.

Instead we’re dealing with this other whole mess.  This mess that will not be resolved anytime soon.  This mess that has us physically apart, and mentally connected via texts/calls/Facebook posts.  Totally not the same thing.  Trust me.  And we’re trying to figure out the rules to this new paradigm because apparently living in a small town creates another angle to this story that neither of us had taken the time to consider.  The PR of being separated but not separating.  Because while my emotional life is a mess, my actual life is going on.  I do the same things I did before Bob left.  I go out with friends for dinner, for drinks, for dancing. I go to the gym.  I walk the dog.  I go shopping.

My life has not changed.

But apparently it was supposed to?  Because there’s been rumors and things that have gotten to my ears that there’s talk.  That it doesn’t look like I’m very unhappy.  That I appear to be doing just fine.  Because I’m not wearing black and wailing as I walk about downtown?  Oh really?  Well let me be blunt in my answer to whomever might be saying or thinking that about me… f*?k you.

Yes, you. F*$k you.

There, I feel so much better.  Now if you’ll excuse me… I think I have a bright colored dress to put on and some dancing to do.  And Bob is pretty sure he’s going running tomorrow, eating dinner out whenever he wants, and (quelle horror!) he might even go to a movie and read a few books while he’s dealing with something no one can even imagine.   Because that’s what we both need to do – let our lives go on as normally as we can while we’re living through wartime.  Life goes on.  We’re living it the best we can.  And we know our truth…

You do not.

Oh, and if you see me at Pigfest this weekend please wave but you really need to just keep walking.  I’ll be having a drink and some laughs with friends. And I’m reasonably sure you’re not in that number. Life goes on.  Even if you choose not to live it.

I’m living.

F*$k you.

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