Last night I finally broke down; the sobbing, the laughing, the covering my head and wanting to punch something forcefully; the 'thank goodness I have shriveled up unused wet-wipes in the car because if I don't blow my nose my head is going to explode and what will I use to clean that up?
Sometimes grief feels to me like a well dug in my center- apparently I haven't finished grieving for Nate and I, nor dealt with all of the guilt. The good news is I am getting closer to excavating the bottom.
Last May,I asked a great friend of mine to allow me one full year-or until April 2007- to whine about leaving my fiance. She felt that was more than fair. One year's permission to grieve granted.
However, I have not yet ever given myself that long. I am impatient. I want the pain over because it was so severe at first I feared living it for any longer; because I have feared never recovering from this, never again being capable of sustaining a relationship.
A few times since I've felt ready to date. Although each experience has moved me a little further along, each has also been unsuccessful- I go along gloriously until... and I can't go farther.
This year have been full of self-medicating platitudes: don't look back, just look ahead; life goes on, whether you like it or not; life is messy; time heals all wounds. There is a 1970's (?) song I like to hear that although most unrelated to caucasian heartbreak does help carry me along when I need that little extra something-
Ooh, Child, things are gonna' get easier,
Ooh Child things'll get brighter