I’ve been seeing a therapist for a month now and so far it’s been really good. She encourages me to set goals at each session and helps me focus on being positive. This is what I needed. Structure and focus.
Brian and I are together again. It wasn’t until after my first session with my therapist that I decided I needed to work on our relationship. I was equipped with new tools for dealing with my emotions and working on my communication skills. There were things about us that I couldn’t let go of, like how perfectly imperfect we were together.
I let him in on some of the things I talk about in my therapy sessions, like how I’m trying to learn to address things as they come up rather than letting them sit unaddressed.
These last couple days, words have been itching to come out of my fingers. I guess it’s because Brian and I aren’t texting or talking every hour of the day so I have a lot more thoughts built up in my mind and they need to be let out.
I really have been exploring a more spiritual path these last couple days. I have never been religious by any means despite being raised strictly Catholic. I cringe at the idea of having to go to church. But I’ve always thought I needed some other kind of spiritual path.
Several years ago I began learning meditation. That lasted for about a couple months and then my iPod broke and I haven’t bothered since. I think the results were too minimal for me to find any value in it anyway.
And then when I wanted to lose weight, I started to learn pilates. Now that I was able to get into. Plus I saw a definite improvement in my core strength and flexibility.
Now I’m looking into practicing yoga, which in a way is almost like pilates and meditation combined.
The sad thing is that as I’m exploring all of these things I’m looking into, I want to share it with him, my excitement, my wonder, my fear, and my curiosity. Because when you’re embarking on something new and exciting, you want to tell your best friend and, well, he’s been mine for the last 6 months.
I guess that’s the thing about this separation. It made me happy to share my life with him because it validated it. But no one else can validate my life but myself. No one but myself can make me happy. And now I just have to figure out how. On my own.
I’m reading this book right now called 33 Ways To Reboot Your Life (The Reboot Series). It’s a very thought provoking read primarily because it suggests doing some drastic things like sell all your crap, quit your job, and go on a 10 day meditation retreat.
There’s a line in it that reads: Whenever you eliminate something, you create a vacuum. Always, always create something new and better to fill the vacuum you have created.
I am doing just that.
It was early Saturday morning. Daylight was struggling to peek through the light-blocking curtains. Brian was asleep next to me. We were in his bed, back where we began. He was snoring softly, his back to me.
I was here again. Although we had said no more sleep overs for a while, I had given in to him the night before and showed up on his doorstep.
“Hi there!” he said cheerfully as he opened the front door for me.
“Hi,” I said, stepping inside with my overnight bag and a plastic CVS bag. “I had to stop and get some bottled water because my throat was killing me.” I set both down on the kitchen table and I turned to him.
I placed his things in a large Teavana shopping bag: a flannel shirt I once told him he looked sexy in, the photographic print of the Outlaw motorcyclist that I gave to him for Valentine’s day, and the SceneIt Seinfeld edition that he gave to me because I was the only one who could beat him at it.
Brian and I were on the verge of a break up on a night when he would be meeting my friends for the first time. How ironic, right? Did they know it? No. I didn’t want to ruin the occasion.