It is probably a good thing, though, to see him in casual settings, although definitely weird. He had wanted to jump right into “being friends” after a year and a half of dating. But my sorry little heart just couldn’t handle that right away. It’s been a long few months, but I’ve gotten to the point where my life resembles normal again. There are still things I miss. I miss sharing meals. I miss talking to him, kissing him, going on bike rides together. I miss the friendship, the little moments of shared quiet. I miss being shushed for asking questions during movies, finding messages on my voicemail (although my phone is broken now, so I don’t really make or receive phone calls anyway). I miss being missed. I miss him. But not as much now as I used to.
Looking at the bright side of things, there is so much of which I am able to partake now that I am a free woman. I enjoy being able to do whatever I want, whenever I want. I wouldn’t have gone mountain climbing or snowshoeing if I were still dating Chewie (I think he likes the idea of things more than actually doing them). I wouldn’t have substituted as an alternate for my friend’s dart team or attended the Beaux Arts Ball or danced until two in the morning at 80s night (Mr. Bacca doesn’t really like dancing). I probably wouldn’t have even started this blag. I guess I didn’t realize how much time was wrapped up in thinking about him, in worrying about the future of the relationship (never mind the hours we spent together each day). I also enjoy these feelings of inner giggliness that several people have been stirring recently, and I really like not having to push those feelings away guiltily. As cheeky as it may sound, I do enjoy enjoying the menfolk.
And finally, I enjoy this new freedom to explore my faith. I guess I hadn’t realized, but I really was limiting myself in terms of spirituality while dating this guy. Not that it was his fault, just that he wasn’t into it, and I didn’t want him to feel any pressure from me. But now – now I can ask questions and embrace them with every cell and emotion in my 23-year-old body. I can look for answers that expand upon reason, that enlarge and ennoble it. I can look to different traditions, to Christianity, to Hinduism, to Judaism… I can be comfortable with uncertainty and doubt, and I can begin to heal this self-inflicted spiritual wound.