This is hard

Right now is not the perfect time to meet somebody new. I was happy in my life on my own, genuinely thought that I could cope with maybe forging new connections. Either way, I would be content. (I thought).

 

Try as I might, I can't help bringing ghosts of relationships past into this one. They are not similar, not at all. Things are so different in every conceivable relationship angle; I am not comparing.

 

And yet, and yet…..

 

Can I do this again? I always try to live life like it matters. I fervently believe that it is the things we don't do that haunt us on our deathbeds. Nobody ever died from being too conservative.

 

It is almost impossible to underestimate the effect of loss of a beloved partner on the surviving one. Ron would be the first person to stand up and cheer for me, for us.  It doesn't feel like any sort of betrayal to be moving on elsewhere. There is so much that is good in what NGI and I share. I love the time I spend with him and look forward to seeing him, always.

 

But my heart, it bleeds still. I used to think that he was always within me, that I carried his heart within mine. that failing organ of his that struggled so hard, that was big enough to love me, even with all the loss he knew would come with it.

 

How do I move past this? I feel like I am stuck in limbo.

 

I am drowning in quicksand and all I can see is his green eyes, laughing at me.

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About quirkycharm

I like to think that I have a certain quirky charm but I am probably being optimistic. Acquired taste, perhaps, which many don't acquire. This is about my fifth blog out there. My hosting companies kept going out of business or my IT exhusband kept hacking into them and I would move again. I don't do twitter, I barely do facebook, I don't try and 'monetize' my blog. I love my husband, my grown children and my job and this particular incarnation of oversharing my life comes at a time when I am the most content that I have ever been. I write always, sporadically during the good stuff and exhaustingly during the bad.
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