Saturday, March 29, 2008


I look at myspaces of my exes.
Because I am a human with this weird ass internet tool.
And so I do what I am enabled to.

Just be stupid and look.
And so I looked at my ex, the major one who broke my heart hard and in a million stabbing pieces.
And it's incredible to remember how I felt then.
And that I don't feel any of that now. I don't hate him. I don't want him.
I'm happy for him and I'm happy for what happened. Not a cliche. I am happy that this happened as it has.
He found the person he belongs with, I can see from his myspace that he is engaged to the girl he cheated on me with.
And it doesn't hurt me but it sounds like something I should be hurt by.
I am talking about it here not because I need to convince anybody of it, but because what happened - big picture - is something that matters.
He saw me and knew I wasn't the one, and he saw her and knew she was. And so we ended even though we still loved each other.

It wasn't time for me.
When I ask myself about the purpose is of all these failed relationships.
I know one thing is true for all of them.
It matters that they failed.

Now is not the time for me.
And for all of that.

The years that followed that painful breakup were incredible. I don't think I'd have done the amazing things I've done if I was still with him. I wouldn't be the person I am.
Years later, it all makes sense, and it is good.

Yes, I am sad for the hurt that's happened over all the years with all the men.
Yes, I feel pain and missing.
But the craziness all makes sense.
A snowflake falls in a new spot and creates a sheet of snow. The random disorder closes in as a neat white mass.
And I am comforted.
And truly ok.
And living.

I'm still alive.
And it's fine.
Actually, I quite like it.

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