Reminder: Its Been 74 Weeks Of No Contact.

Reminder:  It’s been 74 weeks of no contact.  

I am still here carving out a future of my own.

And I can breathe freely now.

Every day I remind myself that I should mourn for the past I lost to him and not the future I think I’ve lost without him.  

Saw him tonight. On his new motorcycle.

We were in her car and the windows are very tinted. There's no way he could have seen me. But it still felt like he looked me right in the eyes.

Fuck.

Hats

Throughout the healing process it hasn’t been the assaults, sexual coercion, and the emotional torture that has been difficult to understand. 

No, no.  It’s been resolving that reality to the person who was, on rare occasions, undeniably kind to me and charming to others.  The one who was loved by the family dog.  The one who helped out his grandma and had a really sweet relationship with her. 

It’s so much easier to think of them as monsters, and I’d argue that it is probably a necessity in the early stages of the recovery process.

But they're human.  And somehow that’s a difficult pill to swallow.

Im so tired. This life has made me just so damn tired.

There are nights when I'm lying in bed next to her, where I'm safe and cozy and I should be happy.

But I'm not. I'm restless. I'm angry without purpose. I'm stressed. I'm sad.

She brings me so much joy, but he steals it.

About a year ago he stopped texting me, after months of one-sided harassment.

Today I am all fucked up about it.    Today I am stressed and restless and hurt and angry and sad and mourning my past and what I thought I had.

And I don’t know how to explain any of it.