So much has happened in a year.
I’ve been living in the flat behind my uncles house for a year now – when I moved in after the divorce I said it would be 6 months and now I have been there for a year already.
But I feel like me again.
Things are simple again.
I go to the gym and I have breakfast. I go to work and I actually enjoy it. Then I have dinner and hang out with my boyfriend.
And tomorrow I do the same thing again. And you know what – its awesome.
Things are simple and light and happy.
I no longer feel that I cant breath and there isn’t a shadow of depression constantly following me anymore. There isn’t an eating disorder chatting away in my head 24/7 telling me I’m worthless. And there’s no divorce or husband continuously making me feel like a failure.
Its just me and the simple things in life.
Back to the city this afternoon.
My best friends bought me 3 journals for a going away gift for my trip 🙂
We all had dinner and danced on the tables and drank too much.
I am going to miss them so much. I drove out the drive way and I missed them already. I was down the road and they texted me they miss me already.
I know I have fucked up a lot, but I did something right!
‘I’m leaving on the 28th of December’ I exclaimed!
‘Thats in a week, you can’t leave and we still have never had sex’ he said.
‘Ok, thursday, I expect to be wined and dined’
It was a friend and a fuck and now we’ve been doing it for a month.
We went to the movies, we hold hands in the mall and I sat on his lap eating ice cream under the stars.
This changes everything, we have become emotionally invested.
‘I’m going to miss you’
‘I’m going to miss you too’
I had a magical night with Andrew…
First time we’ve seen each other since we had sex last year. As he stepped out the car he picked me up and we kissed, we were both so happy to see each other and now I am blushing just thinking about it.
We sat in the garden, drinking wine and chatting and laughing. I have never felt so connected to him, we lay in bed for hours after, until 3am this morning staring into each others eyes and chatting.
I’m the lucky one. The pretty one. The favourite one.
This is what my ex husband thought of me and my family, I was the lucky one and my sister was the underdog. My brother and I were lucky, we fitted in, we were closer to my parents and we were closer to each other. C was the outcast he said, she was the underdog. Perhaps that is why he was always so fond of her.
It must have been incredibly difficult for my parents raising C and it must of been incredibly difficult for C to grow up in our family. ‘You don’t understand how hard it must have been for her when you came along. You the little princess.’
When I was a teenager I always wanted to be like her. She was thin and she was beautiful. She wasn’t sticking her finger down her throat, she wasn’t cutting herself. She was always incredibly loving, a mother by nature, she was a caretaker. She got married a virgin.
Of course she rebelled, she rebelled the most out of us the three of us children. She was flawed, but she was herself and she was perfect to me. I wanted to be just like her once a upon a time.
She was the lucky one. She was the pretty one. She was the favourite one.
Thats how I saw it when we were growing up. Yes my brother and I are closer. I’m the princess, I am. I’m the firecracker and the risk taker and most say I am the favourite and the pretty one. I’m different and I’m a good listener and liberal and supportive. Does it matter? She’s pretty, she has set values, she’s the most wonderful mother. She is smart and she is driven. She is the one that is filled with love all around. She is happy and she is funny. She is a role model. She is kind and she puts family above all.
It doesn’t matter what we are or who we are. We are sisters. It never was and it never will be a competition. It doesn’t matter.
We are who we are.
We are the lucky ones.
‘Lets go for a walk’ he said.
‘Ok, do wanna go for a run or a walk, should I put sneakers on?’ I asked.
‘Doesn’t matter, just come’
‘Okay…’ I said awkwardly
We walked down the road and he seemed anxious, I just shrugged it off and I keep walking down the road, holding his hand and chattering on about nothing in particular. He pulled me to the right and we headed towards the dam. The very empty dam where my brother and sister and I played as kids. I stood looking around at the trash on the ground, the bottle tops, shards of glass and old wrappers polluting the area.
‘Danielle, I love you, you are my world and I never ever want to be without you’ he said out of the blue, pulling me closer.
‘I love you’ I said and I smile.
‘Oh my God! What are you doing?’ I exclaimed as he started lowering himself onto one knee.
‘Will you be my wife?’
Naturally I burst into tears, we held each other kissing, our salty tears sliding down our cheeks.
Two years ago.
New years eve.
Tonight I stood in the kitchen in my parents house. My mum holding me in my arms telling me that she is proud of me, that I am going to thrive. The sadness will linger for long and the healing will take time, but I will heal. Tears running down my cheeks, I’m dry heaving from the emotion. I feel nothing yet I feel everything. Eyes blood shot from the crying and I’m exhausted.
But its over. It will linger and the pain will walk with me for a while still.
But I will be found.
Dear You, (Him, the man I so hopelessly fell for)
I think about you every day. Your soft touch, the way you kissed my forehead when you walked past me. How we lay in bed exploring each others minds and enlightening each others universes. The instant hope we felt as our lips met for the first time. Everything we taught each other about love and life and everything in between.
I’m sending you love and compassion. I miss you deeply but more than that I am grateful. I will forever love you deeply and appreciate what you taught me. I would have loved for you to stay longer, but you have weeded your way out of my world.
Live and let live.