So WHAT happens… when what you believe is, isn’t really at all?
It’s been my question for the past two weeks. What I believed was my last first kiss, the love of my life, my person, abruptly ended the relationship. No conversation, no face to face, no nothing. This is what it is and then I was ghosted.
Just. Like. That.
I won’t be so naive to say this is all on him. I can’t. Intentional or not, there are things I may have said and/or did that created some of the relational discomfort that resulted in the break-up. I’m not saying what I said or didn’t, did or didn’t is not valid nor justified. I have no way of knowing.
But still… what I believed to be true isn’t.
And it hurts like hell.
So… Here’s what I know.
I still believe in love. I still believe in bright futures… and for the good, bad, or ugly, I still believe in him. I just can’t wish him ill, not in the way I wish Putin would fall into a full bath tub with a plugged in toaster. Not in the way I wish to never see my narcissit ex-husband. Not in the ways that are burn it down kind of shit. It flies in the face of who I am.
Decisions to make.
It leaves me with decisions to make, you see, I am building my house in Arizona. It was going to be our home. On a gut level… moving forward still feels like the thing to do, for me. Partly, because I’m super priced out of buying anything in Colorado. Partly, because it’s brand new, never been lived in, new car smell kind of stuff. Mostly, because it’s beautiful and I love it. I believe I can be happy there. I believe I deserve my home. I believe I’ll make friends and build a beautiful life there.
So I do what any smart girl does. I’m talking to people smarter than I. Taking the sting of emotion out of the situation as much as possible. I’ll do some looking in Colorado, though I’m likely limited to a townhome if anything. I don’t want a condo… buying an apartment sounds awful.
It’s a two year commitment. One year, I have to live in the home… year two, I can have a renter if I find myself truly unhappy and unable to stay there.
My sister Jennifer would be four hours away by car. Super doable. I am only a short 90 minute flight to Denver, and Denver will still be a frequent stay for work related things. So the decision seems easy-ish.
But. Not. Really.
Picking up everything I own and moving somewhere new…against the original plan is super scary. But shit… I’ve done super scary for the past two years. Haven’t I?
So I believe I will pray on it. I believe I’ll seek wise counsel. I believe I’ll sleep on it for several more nights, and I believe whatever choice I make I will be supported by an amazing tribe of people.