Bullets over Beddington

The dishwasher is fixed. I keep calling it the dishwasher for some reason, but it’s the washing machine.  Third time of draining it is the charm, apparently.  And I have learned my lesson, I hope, of cleaning out pockets so that the random stuff I found clogging up the drain doesn’t get in there again.  The bed is made, all the sheets washed.  I’ve cleaned out my car.  I’ve taken another bath.  My teeth hurt, but not beyond the usual.  I’ve lit a candle in good hope and faith.

It’s not perfect.  It’s not this complete sanctuary.  But it is a space I can tolerate leaving from and feel good about myself on my first day.

J. and I are very odd ducks.  That’s just…well, if you’ve read a sampling of my posts here, you’ve got to be aware of that.  I feel as though I’m sort of leaning on him to be this sort of all-encompassing boyfriend testing ground.  And I am, in some ways, perfect for him as a soft place to land after his super painful divorce.  I have my moments of deep confusion with him.   Of real unsure footing.  Of wondering if maybe I’ve taken too much on, in caring for someone who has such a whip-smart mind that he can occupy so much of my own.  This external person I do not want to control except in the moments I am reminded I can’t control even if I tried.  I am just stumbling forward, guided by the idea of…well, I am old enough to do whatever I want with him.

So, I’ve raised our shared level of connection.  I keep kicking the can of “this” on down the road. He said today that when it seems like the right time to say goodbye and he knows its the right time and we have to take a break from one another, he always regrets it.  And I paused for a second to parse that he didn’t mean for all time, just our numerous goodbyes everyday.  And then there was a lot of silliness said.  Compliments, mostly.

Now, I am going to be running around on my own.  Fighting off anxieties about driving, handling a workload I probably can’t fathom right now and all I can do is accept.  Take my notes, take my willingness to work hard and learn and listen and meet anyone I need to meet, and learn what it is that they’re asking of me.  And mostly, that’s not all going to happen right away.  I am returning to myself.

And in the interim.  Money for life.  Money for experiences.  Money for health.

A girl attempting her best shot at wisdom.


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