Yup. Still Not Over It.

974

Friday night I was driving to dinner willing myself not to cry.

The passenger in my car was a new person I was seeing who upon entering my car made it crystal clear that I would not be enjoying myself.

Despite my excitement for what I thought was going to be a lovely evening of fun and connection I could feel myself shutting down more and more by the second.

Then, when I was trying to make some kind of conversation to rescue what felt like a doomed evening and asked him what kind of food he liked, he told me not only did he not really care about food but he also wasn’t a good cook.

I, my friends, LOVE food. I love eating it. I love talking about it. I love cooking it. I love watching shows where people cook it. I’m a foodie for sure.

Instantly images came to my mind of the short lived relationship I had with the chef who served me the best damn home fries and brunch dish I’d ever had in my life.

And that’s saying a lot. I love my potatoes.

Then my mind darted to my ex and all the meals we made together and how fun and fulfilling they were.

Then my mind went to the sex. Good lord. The sex.

Then I snapped back to reality to the dude next to me offering me literally none of those things.

Oh comparison. It certainly has a way of pointing out the obvious in as painful of a way as possible.

This is when my eye ducts really tried to express themselves and I pleaded with them to just give me a few hours and then we could bawl our eyes out all we wanted.

And that is exactly what we did.

As much as I thought those particular tears had been shed for the last time because it’s been almost a year since my breakup and I need to get on with my life already, I am discovering that I’m just not finished.

I still miss him. I still long for that relationship.

Only now my feelings are tangled with this more recent, short lived relationship that in many ways reminded me of that bigger relationship.

Mostly because it was the first time since my breakup I actually connected with someone new who I really enjoyed and who felt like the beginning of something special.

So now I miss the both of them in this tangled, chaotic cacophony of desire and loss and sadness and frustration.

And yes, my longing is different than it has been in the past. Now I miss certain aspects of that relationship while connecting with the pieces I know are not healthy for me.

These same aspects I enjoy showed up in this more recent relationship, making it a tunnel right back to the first one. It’s a slippery slope indeed.

And I feel fairly certain that this newfound layer of emotion is a result of the work I have been doing in my tantra mastery program.

I’ve been practicing this fire element meditation that is an antidote for attachment and it feels as though every single thing that I am attached to right now is rumbling up to the surface with a ferocious fury.

That tends to be by way. First it boils over. Then it clears. It’s such an enjoyable totally comfortable process. Let me tell you.

Sarcasm aside, I am grateful. Because if this stuff is coming up that means I can release it. And the more I release the more space I am creating for what I really want in my life.

We can’t be afraid of our process of healing. And we can’t judge it either. It’s our unique process and it will take as long as it needs to take. There is no resisting that. Only acceptance.

This is an act of radical self love.

But even more importantly when I find myself longing for something outside of myself I know it is all the more reason to step inside and ask myself, what am I neglecting, what am I not loving, what do I need to heal.

So as much as I want to do the opposite of that and send a text message that will only have momentary resuscitation instead I’m going to get on my yoga mat and practice.

I’m going to feel the shit out of these tangled emotions.

I’m going to try and give myself as long as I need.

I’m going to let myself heal.