Clarity

The date is fast approaching. I found a piggy bank, painted it red white and blue and named him Clarity. Once he reaches $300 I'll officially file for my divorce against Rick. The ghost of the past relationship has been left behind to linger in the floor boards of other homes. My heart has let go. My heart has moved on. I realized I was completely over it the day I finally got rid of my engagement ring. That was my stepping stone, that moment of no return. And I must say, I'm happy.

I love living on my own, just Evelyn and me. I love watching her grow and learn. How she cackles and runs and plays. The child is so goofy. It's hard to not be completely mesmerized by her. And that is all that I am left with when it comes to Rick. Sadness that he is choosing to miss out on her. His loss. Pity because he's never going to be more than he is, because he chooses not to be. I've fought my way here... and he won't take that from me.

He refused me my one request. The truth. Closure. So I got the facts, and I saw him for the kind of man he really is, I set him straight, and I stole my own closure. And now I'm done. And that is one of the most refreshing feelings in the world.

And not a moment to late. Because I know what I want. Because I know what I deserve. And I've already seen the possibilities that lay before me...

Needless to say. I'm a happy girl. I'm a whole girl. And all the things he told me: he'd break me, he'd make me hate him, he'd make me regret everything that ever happened between us: he was wrong.

I'm not that kind of girl, who clings to the past and braces it to myself like a shield, an excuse to avoid the good things in life. I'm not the kind of person to hold grudges.

And so, I make this my official last Rick Scotton related entry. Maybe more so for his benefit than mine (since he cyber stalks my blog). I don't wish bad on him, I don't wish anything at all.

Like the song goes, "I'm not sorry I met you, I'm not sorry it's over, I'm not sorry there's nothing to say."

Shuffling Ghosts

This past weekend marked a milestone in my young adult life. I moved into my own place. No roommate. No sibling. No parent. No spouse. Just walls, hardwood floors, my daughter, and myself.

The house I moved into, a two-story home around my grandmother’s age originally had strange wallpaper and handmade shelves all throughout the house. Now, I have a retro green kitchen, and a pretty pink princess room for Evie, purple plastered against the four walls of my bedroom, and a chocolate brown living-room that is warm and inviting. It wasn’t easy turning a home that was built by someone else and lived in for years into mine… but it’s already almost there.

And that took me painting over the wallpaper, and removing the nick-knacks from the shelves, and painting over the growth chart of the two little girls on my bedroom’s door-frame. It made me sad, to pack up “Janice” as April lovingly refers to her and stack her in boxes in the upstairs loft, and was yet another reminder of how everything in life is temporary. I keep getting reminded of that every day.

While Janice was being transferred out of the new home, I took great care to make sure I left other ghosts behind me. Traces of Rick still linger through out the walls of my old place, traces of hurtful conversations and broken promises and moments of weakness that now linger in the pit of my stomach making me sick. 

This house is more than a milestone. It’s a new start. And it’s a new start Evelyn and I both need.

Broken

In the 10 years I've dated, and the countless relationships I've had I've never once experience what it feels like to be broken. I've been hurt... but I've never been broken. The notion always amused me... broken as if I were some kind of an expensive china doll.

That lousy SOB broke me.

Why has it taken me a year to realize this?

A Jewel

If I could tell the world just one thing
It would be that we're all OK
And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear

Challenges 2011

I've been reading a lot about people entering "challenges" today.

The 365 day challenge, a blog challenge which is exactly as it sounds.
The book a week challenge, which is also a challenge that is exactly as it sounds.
The morning pages challenge, a challenge in which a writer will partake in a routine of writing three pages every morning, as soon as you wake up.

These challenges all seem nice. These challenges all seem fun. These challenges appear to be gateways of avoidance.

I have to many other challenges to deal with right now.
The challenge of single parenthood.
The challenge of taking the final steps in my divorce.
The challenge of self-restraint (and trust me, it is DIFFICULT).

Oh the challenges we face. I'd love to let my muse take over the challenges for a bit.

Right on Schedule...

It's been 4 months. I have been waiting for it to all kick back into place. His mood swings are like clock work, but oh so predictable.

I keep trying to, but I realize I will never understand what would really possess a man to WILLINGLY walk away from their child. And for what? What is the price of missing out on a life you created?

It makes me sad.
And it makes me feel sorry for them... the men who really don't care.
And it makes me worry for the children who are getting tormented by it.

Luckily for me, Evelyn isn't old enough to know any better yet.

Just What My Morning Needed.... a little poetry

"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
call to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."
— Mary Oliver