Picking up the pieces

Wednesday; the last time I truly cried. Progress.

It'a hard after a break up to get back to life so to speak. It's even harder after a break up that changes your entire life. Pre-singledom, I was a psuedo-mom and wife. I had the house on the corner, the 2 car garage, the guy, the kids and even a cat. Getting ready for work included making sure kids were up and ready, fed, prepared and squeezing my 15 minutes of daily alone time in between their bathroom needs. After work was always dinner and kids everywhere. And I mean everywhere. I always found it ironic that the alone time I sought so hard for back then was what it seemed the kids tried to avoid.

Now, its just me and the cat and a one bedroom apartment. It took me two months of living alone before I was able to be home without a tv or radio on to fill the void. I haven't had either on all day yet.

And while I don't regret my decision, I have missed my old life in ways I couldn't realize, and have hurt in ways I didn't know was possible. I miss feeling needed or wanted. And yet, somehow, my sorrow now is different from my sorrow during my white noise recovery phase. Then, I missed what I had.

Now, I look back on the last 4 years and miss what I didn't have and feel robbed. But there must be some sort of solace in this new revelation because I haven't truly cried since Wednesday.

I'm still a puzzle with a million missing pieces, but I haven't truly cried since Wednesday, and that my friends, must be progress.