Day 26: ain't it funny how some things take you back?

I learned some things today that I found interesting. And I got them straight from the source.

First, I learned that a certain ex-girlfriend of his has been reading my blog posts. You know who you are, and I don't believe for a second that you don't know how to take my blog off of your news feed. Seriously? Not cool, man.

Second, miscommunications were abundant. There was some information that I was getting from a mutual friend of ours that was not entirely true, and those were the things that I feel finally got straightened out. I am not saying that I think everything is suddenly magically worked out and fixed, but we are on the road to being friends someday.

Third, he still makes me laugh. When I sit next to him, I feel more at home than in my own home. I can still see a cloudless blue sky in his eyes. I don't think this is going to change any time soon, which makes me a little sad. But I'm ok. I have been ok for the last two weeks without him, and that too is not going to change.

I've said this cliché a thousand times. But it is the sad but beautiful truth is that from the moment I met him, he has been my other half. That hasn't changed. I was nervous about meeting up with him all day, because I didn't know how it would go. But as soon as I knocked on his front door and he answered, I felt an instant calm. Not that it wasn't awkward, but the longer we sat on that park bench, the more it felt like it was when we first met. We were comfortable, he was sharing things with me, and we were laughing together. I miss that.

But as of right now, 26 days into our true separation, and 3 1/2 months after our official breakup, I finally feel peaceful. I'm not necessarily happy, but I am no longer tormented by what could have been. The future is a huge unknown, and I have to look forward now. Maybe our paths will cross again, and maybe they won't. Who really knows?

"Ain't it funny how some things take you back, and the here and now just fades to black? I pull the blue tarp off of that time machine, and it hits me. I'm seventeen-years-old, running on dumb luck. I spent the whole damn summer living in that truck. Them old tires still covered in all that mud, and it sticks with me, in my blood."

--> Josh Kelley, "Georgia Clay"