I think I’m fine – I think I’m making progress - and then I realise I’m really not.
It overwhelms me and I know I’ve been kidding myself.
It’s still a ‘thing’.
It still hurts.
And I curl up into a tight little ball and stay very still and very quiet for a little while.
And then I feel better.
I feel brighter.
I still feel we made the right decision.
Most of the time, I feel I’ve moved on.
Other times it feels like I never will.
And it’s made me afraid.
Afraid to open up to someone new.
Afraid to be any more than ‘casual’.
Because moving on means letting go.
It also means stepping into The Unknown.
Being vulnerable and risking being hurt like the many times it happened before Him.
Being with Him was safe and warm and just full of love.
He was my home.
It was never like that with anyone else.
Right now, I don’t think I can be hurt again.
And I don’t know if I can find someone to make me feel like that again.
But I do have hope.
And I do know that thisfeeling isn’t forever.
