Flashback to August 24, 2012…
I’m starting my new life. I’ve been liberated. But now that the chains of abuse, neglect, and mistreatment are gone, at times I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. I’m unsure how to feel, how to love again. Am I doing it right? Maybe I don’t want to feel at all. Sometimes I’ve considered turning it all off and never feeling again. It would be so much simpler that way. I am a prisoner set free, unsure where to go. My emotional prison is the only place I’ve known for so long. I feel lost, disoriented with my new surroundings, in my new status as a freeman. But deep down I know what I must do. And I push forward because I can’t go back.
I’m back in the mix.
Old but young again. Single but a mother.
At least motherhood is familiar.
Dating is familiar. But not. I don’t want to do it the way I did last time. I am different now: stronger, wiser. I refuse to repeat my mistakes. I will do a better job this time. I want to choose more wisely. No pity dates. No games. I’ve had ten years of games. And they left me shattered, bloody on the pavement.
It’s all a whirlwind. Work. Motherhood. Migraines. Callings. Social life. Workouts. Sleep? Not really. Trying to eat right. Read. Write. Vent my feelings rather than bottling them up. Exploding. Regretting. Remembering to breathe.
And then something new in the mix …
A man. A new one. A real man, who is present, compassionate, loving and attentive. I haven’t had that in a long time.