It’s been days since I’ve heard from him. I received random text messages but not enough to curb my enthusiasm to keep calling. I coped with my courtship my binging on Super Soul Sunday to fill the emptiness. Unfortunately, it raised more questions than answers. Are we charting a celestial course or we drifting apart?
You don’t get to shut down and disappear when you’re in a committed relationship. It causes a mutant strain of anxiety that tears up the tightest bonds. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. I hope that’s what’s happening. But why the disconnection? Does my boyfriend need a break from me?
Let my mind be still. I get like this when I haven’t written in a while. My thoughts cloud my mind and poison my mood. My emotions are all over the place.
Let’s take him out of the equation. What are my needs and goals outside of this relationship? What about the book? Updating the column? Or traveling the world? Yesterday I received an invitation to New York City. What’s keeping me from accepting it?
Dating my bipolar boyfriend can be crazier than Congress. The back and forth and constant compromises seem compromising. But my craft is more important than that. And I shouldn’t ever take it for granted.
I’m taking my power back. I’m done calling him. I’ll let him reach out to me. He needs to know what it’s like. Who does that? We left on a good note. Things are in flux with his living situation and divorce. Lord, I can’t wait to feel more settled. Should I mediate?
Or try yoga?
It would be a great stress reliever. It will make me skinnier and more flexible. But I should focus on living out loud.
I turned my phone off. Fuck you and your notifications. Fuck you baby for not answering the phone and thus getting on my fucking nerves. Fuck you Facebook for disabling my account. And fuck you Twitter for making me beg for every damn follower so I can promote my writing for free.
That felt lovely like a blow job on a Sunday afternoon.
My spiritual practice is red wine. A daily glass can wash away my frustrations like a bath. But today I’m replacing those calories by getting my ass in this chair. Writing out my life on the granite counter top to the soothing sounds of classical music. It sounds like a fucking Star Wars movie. Let the force be with me and this double fudge ice cream.
Today I’m leaving everything to God. The night will pass, the sun will rise and it will rain. What ever will be is going to be. So yeah, I’ll deal with the relationship when I deal with it. Right now, there are words on this page.
Fear can take over all five senses and both sides of my brain. So he can focus on what he needs to do and I’ll do the same. I have a book to write, a column to tend to, and a world to see. And I can only afford a one-way ticket.
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