The physical doesn’t start till way later until some type of relationship is established. It might seem and feel innocent, but conversations can lead you to somewhere dangerous and toxic. #rodneysays
Happy Friday! We’re on the east coast this weekend for what has become an annual trip to Philly for company Xmas party followed by a weekend in NYC with my baby sisters.
When this tradition began just two years ago, I was traveling solo and had not even met my sweetheart yet. I wasn’t even looking! 🤣
Even so, it was one of the best weekends of my life because a) I had that ridiculous adventure to the Rocky steps that I told you about yesterday, b) I got to spend the weekend with my baby sisters and I felt so much love and happiness for them (and their sweethearts) and c) I was completely and totally happy to be enjoying the experience on my own.
I wasn’t envious of their relationships or sad because I was single. I was just so relieved to finally be free from my previous marriage, which took way longer than the actual divorce did.
I was so grateful because I had finally become the love of my own life. And 100% content to be on my own.
So, of course, I met Jeff just three months later! And he was natural fit into our family tradition.
I still have to pinch myself sometimes. It’s hard to believe how much my life has transformed in just a few years... how much I’ve changed.
Discovering my ex’s betrayal and surviving his sex addiction was by far the hardest I’ve ever done. But I would change any of it for the life or love I have today. And, most especially, for the woman I am today.
So, just know that there is always more love for you. You just have to learn to love yourself first. Unconditionally and wholeheartedly. Be the love of your own life.
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It's almost amusing, how easy it was for you to say those two words. It made me wonder about those all times when you came home late but still kissed me good night. Were you sorry even then? Did you actually want to apologize when held my hand as I cried watching 'If Only' for the tenth time? Or maybe, that surprise candle light dinner last week was just another way of saying sorry. I don't know. Why don't I know anymore?
When did words have so much power over me that I'm left kneeling on this kitchen floor, unable to breathe. But, where are you right now? Don't you know apologies don't work on broken pieces of glass? Because that is what I've been reduced to. Broken pieces that people wouldn't dare to step on so they tip-toe from the sides and escape. Didn't you do the same? Did you hope to escape the inevitable by saying those two words?
All these questions aren't unanswered. They are unasked, tucked quietly between the pages of my brown diary. The one I hide beneath the mattress, the one that see everyday, the one you don't have the grit to read because then you would know. You would know that I knew that the tiny pause between saying "I love you" and my name was filled with the thoughts someone else. You would know that I still tried, not because I was a fool, or maybe because I still am, but also because I hoped that someday I'd find a justification for why I refused to give up. It was all supposed to make sense but it still doesn't.
So now that you've washed your hands on your two word apologies, I'll get going. I'll leave the broken pieces here. Maybe, you'll step on them someday and kneel down. Maybe, you'll touch the floor where I once lay frozen. Or maybe, you won't. Maybe, you'll collect the broken pieces of every heart you ever manage to touch. Should it even matter to me anymore? Maybe, this would be the last question I don't ask you.
Photo credits - Nick Scheerbart