My brother is the only man who has been consistently in my life and the lives of my sisters. I know that we all feel much the same...we worship him. Is he perfect? No and we're probably the first to point out just where he misses the mark yet if anyone else were to criticize him in anyway we will defend his honor till the death.
Growing up we endured all manner of acting out by him. He was, after all, the only boy in a family of women...very angry women. I have cried for the hurts he has withstood because of this anger. I wish I could take it all away, take it all back. Yes, he is an amazing person and an honorable man and never deserved to be so treated. I know we all wish we had been gentler with him and his feelings.
Right now I want to honor him, tell the world how amazing he is, how much I love and admire him. He is good. He tries to be just and fair and righteous. He is kind and considerate. He will do anything for a friend and everyone is a friend. He forgives and hopes and loves and sacrifices.
When he was born my life was turned upside-down and I wasn't sure that this was a good thing. I have said that, had I known the word, I would have called him "Usurper" because that's what he did, he stole my life. He didn't really but as a 2-year-old that's how it felt. By the way, parents, that's how it feels. You may not remember a younger sibling coming into your family and you may have convinced yourself that it's all good but at the time you hated that little f**ker!
As we grew and as our lives fell apart, the only thing we had were each other, the five of us and the only man we knew (the sisters) who wouldn't leave us, wouldn't abandon us ever, is Bradley Davidson Bates. You may read this and think I'm being overly dramatic but I'll tell you what...Brenda summed it up nicely: you know those awful things that happened to other people, those are the things that happened to us. Bradley is always there and always will be.
My sisters have married men very like Bradley and, while they may posture and preen in an attempt to denounce my statement, they know the truth. Michael, Jeremy and Will are all very much made in the mold of Bradley. I was even married to a man similar to Bradley in certain ways.
Now, as a single woman looking for my Last First Kiss, I am looking for someone who reminds me enough of my brother without being weird. Those personality traits that make my brother amazing and wonderful calm me, reassure me and comfort me. I want to be a better person because this someone who is like Bradley is a good person and a great man.
Yes, I have loved several men who are like Bradley and I will love them forever. I hope and pray for one who will love me back enough to spend the rest of his life with me, because no matter how crazy life gets, I know that with someone like my brother, I will conquer fear, overcome trials and tribulations and live a full and glorious life.
I love you, Bradley Davidson Bates. Thank you for being so wonderful!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Incomprehensible
I wrote this on September 23, 2011, but didn't publish. How prophetic.
I don't understand the "found Jesus" mentality that people employ when faced with unpalatable reality. If you are sitting on death row for a crime worthy of said sentence and you "find Jesus," what part of the Christian doctrine absolves you from experiencing the entire consequence of your sin? Nowhere does it say that forgiveness means you don't make recompense. Duh!
For the last seven months my immediate supervisor and my co-worker have been the victims of relentless persecution by immature and insecure teammates. Now, that they have tendered their resignations, they are being treated fairly by the departmental leadership and protected from the onslaught of the persecutors. Isn't it a little too late?
This behavior irritates me. Why now? Why start treating them fairly now? Why protect them now? I get that you're afraid, that all the time and energy expended to train these two seems wasted now, but shouldn't you have thought about that in the beginning when all the persecutions started?
Maybe now the fear is that I will leave too (which isn't too far from the truth because given the right opportunity I will jump). I have no reason to stay and endure the torture. No amount of money will induce me to accept maltreatment.
For the last seven months my immediate supervisor and my co-worker have been the victims of relentless persecution by immature and insecure teammates. Now, that they have tendered their resignations, they are being treated fairly by the departmental leadership and protected from the onslaught of the persecutors. Isn't it a little too late?
This behavior irritates me. Why now? Why start treating them fairly now? Why protect them now? I get that you're afraid, that all the time and energy expended to train these two seems wasted now, but shouldn't you have thought about that in the beginning when all the persecutions started?
Maybe now the fear is that I will leave too (which isn't too far from the truth because given the right opportunity I will jump). I have no reason to stay and endure the torture. No amount of money will induce me to accept maltreatment.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Recommit
"There comes a time in your life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh. Forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living."
I want to make this choice, now, today, at this moment but I want it to stick instead of having to recommit every other minute because some memory or some remark or some action (or inaction) on someone else's part knocks me down. I want to feel profound joy...again and forever. I choose joy.
I want to make this choice, now, today, at this moment but I want it to stick instead of having to recommit every other minute because some memory or some remark or some action (or inaction) on someone else's part knocks me down. I want to feel profound joy...again and forever. I choose joy.
Wonder
I wonder...
when I'll stop dreaming about you.
when I'll stop wishing you were in my life.
when I'll stop missing everything about you.
when I'll stop wanting you near me.
when I'll stop seeing you everywhere.
if I'll ever stop loving you.
when I'll stop dreaming about you.
when I'll stop wishing you were in my life.
when I'll stop missing everything about you.
when I'll stop wanting you near me.
when I'll stop seeing you everywhere.
if I'll ever stop loving you.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Aversion
Most people like to think that they're brave and adventurous, and they may be...in some aspects of their lives. Yet, everyone tends to have something they fear, some risk they are afraid to take.
In finance, investors are categorized according to their ability to accept risk. If your aversion to risk is high, you end up putting your money into low-yield investments because, then if the market crashes, well, you're only out a little (though sometimes even a little can be a lot). If you seek risk and want greater rewards, then you invest in higher yield products. Pretty simple.
Risk aversion, though, applies to all aspects of life, not just investing. For instance, I am terribly afraid of heights and refuse to jump out of a perfectly good airplane no matter how amazing an experience sky diving may be to someone else. I am risk averse when it comes to my physical safety. I will climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the CN Tower, the Space Needle, the Empire State Building just to say that I did but you won't ever see me jumping from the perceived safety of their observation decks.
Some people won't speak in public. Oh, they're great one-on-one or in small groups but the idea of being "up there" talking is more than they can bear. For me, I have no such problem. Sure I'm nervous before talking to groups but not to the point of terror. I have a low aversion to that risk--yes, risk, because at any time I could fall off the stage, forget my lines, stumble or stutter, or any number of other horrors could befall me.
Think about the last time you asked someone out on a date. Maybe it was recently or maybe it's been years or maybe you've never taken the opportunity to be the initiator. Maybe your risk aversion coupled with their risk aversion has kept you from being with someone wonderful. While one person finds it less frightening to ask another out on a date, you might find the prospect of being alone entirely more appealing. Don't blame it on the guy. Men are just as averse to risk as women, even when it comes to asking for a date.
No matter the type of risk, it's a hard thing to do. Risk asks you to step where you're not comfortable, where there is no safety line or net to break your fall. The pain of taking the risk is too great, greater than the pain of maintaining the status quo. So I will continue this path, until the risk is less painful or my ability to take the risk becomes greater. I don't know how long that will take nor what condition I'll be in then.
I replay that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where Indy must take the leap of faith from the lion's head but I am too afraid that the stone path is not there, that I will fall, that I will fail. I am too afraid of the unknown.
Surprised? Did you think I was fearless? That I never balk on the precipice? You're right. I have taken many risks in the past. I have packed up my life and moved to a new place, knowing no one or few people, with no job and no prospects. I let love into my heart knowing that I might be hurt...again. I have stood at the edge of my life and declared that fear will not win the war in spite of any battle outcomes to the contrary.
Right now, today, I feel paralyzed by fear. Today I accept a life of discord and loneliness and stress and physical pain. I see what you see right now, looking at my life. I am not blind, just afraid. I beg God for a path, knowing that I must take the steps. I want to believe that the risk is worth it yet those same feelings I get when I stand at the top of a very tall building or in front of a hostile crowd or watch the stock market lose all my money or see the love of my life walk away, all those feelings suffocate me.
You, my friend, cannot save me. This is the part of the journey I must make on my own. Do I wish I had a companion to walk alongside, to encourage me and love me, to tell me that it will be okay? Yes, desperately. But that is not to be. Aversion to risk plays a part in all our lives and I understand, though you may think I don't, that at this moment it is impossible to overcome.
I will march on, put on a good front and pretend to the masses that I am fine. A few will know the truth (those of you who read this blog, my truest friends and family) that risk and fear are decisively winning this battle.
In finance, investors are categorized according to their ability to accept risk. If your aversion to risk is high, you end up putting your money into low-yield investments because, then if the market crashes, well, you're only out a little (though sometimes even a little can be a lot). If you seek risk and want greater rewards, then you invest in higher yield products. Pretty simple.
Risk aversion, though, applies to all aspects of life, not just investing. For instance, I am terribly afraid of heights and refuse to jump out of a perfectly good airplane no matter how amazing an experience sky diving may be to someone else. I am risk averse when it comes to my physical safety. I will climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower, the CN Tower, the Space Needle, the Empire State Building just to say that I did but you won't ever see me jumping from the perceived safety of their observation decks.
Some people won't speak in public. Oh, they're great one-on-one or in small groups but the idea of being "up there" talking is more than they can bear. For me, I have no such problem. Sure I'm nervous before talking to groups but not to the point of terror. I have a low aversion to that risk--yes, risk, because at any time I could fall off the stage, forget my lines, stumble or stutter, or any number of other horrors could befall me.
Think about the last time you asked someone out on a date. Maybe it was recently or maybe it's been years or maybe you've never taken the opportunity to be the initiator. Maybe your risk aversion coupled with their risk aversion has kept you from being with someone wonderful. While one person finds it less frightening to ask another out on a date, you might find the prospect of being alone entirely more appealing. Don't blame it on the guy. Men are just as averse to risk as women, even when it comes to asking for a date.
No matter the type of risk, it's a hard thing to do. Risk asks you to step where you're not comfortable, where there is no safety line or net to break your fall. The pain of taking the risk is too great, greater than the pain of maintaining the status quo. So I will continue this path, until the risk is less painful or my ability to take the risk becomes greater. I don't know how long that will take nor what condition I'll be in then.
I replay that scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where Indy must take the leap of faith from the lion's head but I am too afraid that the stone path is not there, that I will fall, that I will fail. I am too afraid of the unknown.
Surprised? Did you think I was fearless? That I never balk on the precipice? You're right. I have taken many risks in the past. I have packed up my life and moved to a new place, knowing no one or few people, with no job and no prospects. I let love into my heart knowing that I might be hurt...again. I have stood at the edge of my life and declared that fear will not win the war in spite of any battle outcomes to the contrary.
Right now, today, I feel paralyzed by fear. Today I accept a life of discord and loneliness and stress and physical pain. I see what you see right now, looking at my life. I am not blind, just afraid. I beg God for a path, knowing that I must take the steps. I want to believe that the risk is worth it yet those same feelings I get when I stand at the top of a very tall building or in front of a hostile crowd or watch the stock market lose all my money or see the love of my life walk away, all those feelings suffocate me.
You, my friend, cannot save me. This is the part of the journey I must make on my own. Do I wish I had a companion to walk alongside, to encourage me and love me, to tell me that it will be okay? Yes, desperately. But that is not to be. Aversion to risk plays a part in all our lives and I understand, though you may think I don't, that at this moment it is impossible to overcome.
I will march on, put on a good front and pretend to the masses that I am fine. A few will know the truth (those of you who read this blog, my truest friends and family) that risk and fear are decisively winning this battle.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering
Like every other person in the U.S., my morning started just like the mornings before--the alarm went off and I complained about how early it was. I met my personal trainer and pushed my body as hard as I was able at 5:00 AM. It was 8:00 AM in New York.
I finished getting ready for work after training and headed to my car. I remember climbing into the driver's seat, putting the key into the ignition, hearing the engine start, nonchalantly increasing the volume on the radio as I did every single morning. The DJ said something about a terrible thing happening in New York City. I couldn't understand what he was saying even though he kept repeating it.
I called home. Kyla answered. I asked her as calmly as I was able to please put her dad on the phone. I asked him to please put the news on and tell me it was a joke, tell me that I misunderstood, that the DJ was making it up. I heard the channel change, I heard chaos over the phone line, I heard David tell me that it was true.
I drove to work, I guess, because I was eventually in the office, watching a static-filled screen, watching the repeated scenes of horror, real and absolute terror. I remember standing at the top of the North Tower on the Observation Deck with my family. I couldn't remember a New York City without those towers rising high, pointing ever upward.
I cried. I felt hopeless.
In 2004, I traveled to the East Coast with David and Kyla. We went to the top of the Empire State Building and, as I looked south, I saw the hole in my home, the place where the Towers stood at one time. We walked that direction and then I stood at Ground Zero to see for myself. My emotions were raw and I hurt all over again.
Ten years seems a long time but as I watch the news this morning, all the feelings rush back and I've cried again for the thousandth time. I have no idea what it was like for the families left behind or the citizens living in my City (or in DC). I only know my experience. I hurt when the crashes are replayed. I'm crushed as the buildings come down. Each time like it's the first time.
I am grateful that my dad saved a PanAm advertisement showcasing New York City. The Statue of Liberty centered between the World Trade Center towers at dusk. Each time I enter my apartment I am reminded. I am a New Yorker. I will not forget.
I finished getting ready for work after training and headed to my car. I remember climbing into the driver's seat, putting the key into the ignition, hearing the engine start, nonchalantly increasing the volume on the radio as I did every single morning. The DJ said something about a terrible thing happening in New York City. I couldn't understand what he was saying even though he kept repeating it.
I called home. Kyla answered. I asked her as calmly as I was able to please put her dad on the phone. I asked him to please put the news on and tell me it was a joke, tell me that I misunderstood, that the DJ was making it up. I heard the channel change, I heard chaos over the phone line, I heard David tell me that it was true.
I drove to work, I guess, because I was eventually in the office, watching a static-filled screen, watching the repeated scenes of horror, real and absolute terror. I remember standing at the top of the North Tower on the Observation Deck with my family. I couldn't remember a New York City without those towers rising high, pointing ever upward.
I cried. I felt hopeless.
In 2004, I traveled to the East Coast with David and Kyla. We went to the top of the Empire State Building and, as I looked south, I saw the hole in my home, the place where the Towers stood at one time. We walked that direction and then I stood at Ground Zero to see for myself. My emotions were raw and I hurt all over again.
Ten years seems a long time but as I watch the news this morning, all the feelings rush back and I've cried again for the thousandth time. I have no idea what it was like for the families left behind or the citizens living in my City (or in DC). I only know my experience. I hurt when the crashes are replayed. I'm crushed as the buildings come down. Each time like it's the first time.
I am grateful that my dad saved a PanAm advertisement showcasing New York City. The Statue of Liberty centered between the World Trade Center towers at dusk. Each time I enter my apartment I am reminded. I am a New Yorker. I will not forget.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Hope
I've heard the adage "hope springs eternal" and I've even used it upon occasion. There have been times in my life when I've wished that hope would just die. I believe that hope, like faith, is a way to view life and a choice I make. I hope for better things to come. I hope.
Tonight, as I walked home from work and drinks with a friend, I realized that I still hope, regardless of what I see with my eyes or hear with my ears. I hope. I walk down my street and I hope I'll see you. I wake up each morning and hope that work will be less stressful. I look at the world happening around me and I hope that things will get better. I hope.
I am grateful for hope. I am thankful that my personality doesn't give up so easily. Sometimes I wish, for one moment, that my heart would stop wanting, wishing, hoping. Yet, without hope, without faith, I would not be the person I am today, this person who loves and dreams and tries and wants and hopes.
I do hope.
Tonight, as I walked home from work and drinks with a friend, I realized that I still hope, regardless of what I see with my eyes or hear with my ears. I hope. I walk down my street and I hope I'll see you. I wake up each morning and hope that work will be less stressful. I look at the world happening around me and I hope that things will get better. I hope.
I am grateful for hope. I am thankful that my personality doesn't give up so easily. Sometimes I wish, for one moment, that my heart would stop wanting, wishing, hoping. Yet, without hope, without faith, I would not be the person I am today, this person who loves and dreams and tries and wants and hopes.
I do hope.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Apology
My intention is not to sound self-deprecating by apologizing. I also don't want you to feel guilty for any pain I chose to feel. Like I said once before, YOU could not MAKE me happy or sad or any other emotion. My choice to be sad. My choice to be happy. I hope that your intention was never to injure me, that you were honest with me, that I was really important to you.
I have been feeling very sorry for myself. You made some choices and I made those mean terrible things about me (I did warn you that I might). I should not have but I did. It's not a personality trait I'm proud of but it's one I've had for a long time and I'm not any closer to being free of it than I was 7 months ago.
Truthfully, I am afraid that it was all a lie, that you lied to me but I believed you then and maybe that needs to be enough. There's really nothing I can do about it if you weren't honest with me about how you felt--I just don't like feeling like a fool and because I don't know for sure if you lied I feel like a fool about it all now. Sure, it's dumb but that's how I feel right now.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for all the times that I caused you pain and hurt you. I never intended to but I know that I did. I rerun memories of those moments and wish I could have a do-over for each time and respond differently. I was so afraid that I used old habits and behaviors, I responded as if you were just like them. That's not right and I apologize.
I am sorry for putting you in a position to make choices that you may or may not wish you hadn't made. I knew better. I did. I do. I wanted to be loved, wanted, so badly that I stopped looking at what it might cost you or me or us. Unfortunately the cost now is almost more than I can bear because we are not friends anymore. No, don't object. You know it's true, we're not. We're former friends and of all that I've to regret THAT is the one that hurts me the most now. We aren't friends and I'm jealous of everyone else in your life because I'm outside that circle.
I am sorry for the unrealistic expectations I placed on you. I believed some of the things you said that may have been said innocently enough but I made those things mean more than a passing curiosity or whatever your intention had been. You asked me once if my family would like you with all your "flaws," if I'd consider more from us if things were "different." I let that mean that you were considering...even just for a little while...picking me, and, instead of letting go of that, I have been disappointed. I did not manage my expectations. This is not your fault, not at all. You only spoke words, I made those words mean more than just words.
I am sorry for clinging to you, to the past, to my pain. I am sorry for any discomfort you have felt because of my inability to let go, move on. A friend once said to me, "We do not mourn the end of a day, but look fondly on the rising of the sun tomorrow. Why mourn the loss of one relationship, one love, when there will be another...maybe tomorrow?" Not that it's an excuse, just to explain, I have had difficulty letting go because you are more of what I have wanted in a life partner, you are. I didn't know it at first but as I came to know you, I realized you embody nearly everything that is important to me on "my list." Letting go of that is not easy. It often feels like letting go of you is letting go of "The One" and no one can fault me for that fear. I am afraid that I've lost "The One" and there aren't any others out there.
I am sorry. I won't ask for your forgiveness. Too often people feel obligated to forgive when asked. I just want you to know that I am truly sorry for my behavior, my childishness, my flaws and faults, my unrealistic expectations. You will always be a man I love...always.
I have been feeling very sorry for myself. You made some choices and I made those mean terrible things about me (I did warn you that I might). I should not have but I did. It's not a personality trait I'm proud of but it's one I've had for a long time and I'm not any closer to being free of it than I was 7 months ago.
Truthfully, I am afraid that it was all a lie, that you lied to me but I believed you then and maybe that needs to be enough. There's really nothing I can do about it if you weren't honest with me about how you felt--I just don't like feeling like a fool and because I don't know for sure if you lied I feel like a fool about it all now. Sure, it's dumb but that's how I feel right now.
I am sorry.
I am sorry for all the times that I caused you pain and hurt you. I never intended to but I know that I did. I rerun memories of those moments and wish I could have a do-over for each time and respond differently. I was so afraid that I used old habits and behaviors, I responded as if you were just like them. That's not right and I apologize.
I am sorry for putting you in a position to make choices that you may or may not wish you hadn't made. I knew better. I did. I do. I wanted to be loved, wanted, so badly that I stopped looking at what it might cost you or me or us. Unfortunately the cost now is almost more than I can bear because we are not friends anymore. No, don't object. You know it's true, we're not. We're former friends and of all that I've to regret THAT is the one that hurts me the most now. We aren't friends and I'm jealous of everyone else in your life because I'm outside that circle.
I am sorry for the unrealistic expectations I placed on you. I believed some of the things you said that may have been said innocently enough but I made those things mean more than a passing curiosity or whatever your intention had been. You asked me once if my family would like you with all your "flaws," if I'd consider more from us if things were "different." I let that mean that you were considering...even just for a little while...picking me, and, instead of letting go of that, I have been disappointed. I did not manage my expectations. This is not your fault, not at all. You only spoke words, I made those words mean more than just words.
I am sorry for clinging to you, to the past, to my pain. I am sorry for any discomfort you have felt because of my inability to let go, move on. A friend once said to me, "We do not mourn the end of a day, but look fondly on the rising of the sun tomorrow. Why mourn the loss of one relationship, one love, when there will be another...maybe tomorrow?" Not that it's an excuse, just to explain, I have had difficulty letting go because you are more of what I have wanted in a life partner, you are. I didn't know it at first but as I came to know you, I realized you embody nearly everything that is important to me on "my list." Letting go of that is not easy. It often feels like letting go of you is letting go of "The One" and no one can fault me for that fear. I am afraid that I've lost "The One" and there aren't any others out there.
I am sorry. I won't ask for your forgiveness. Too often people feel obligated to forgive when asked. I just want you to know that I am truly sorry for my behavior, my childishness, my flaws and faults, my unrealistic expectations. You will always be a man I love...always.
Treasure
I am blessed, truly. I have so much to be grateful for in my life. I have material wealth or things that I "own." I have an amazing family and great friends. I have wonderful experiences...ups and downs. All these make my life wonderful.
Focusing on the "things" (experiences, materials, people) not currently part of my life negates all the good I actually have right now. How ungrateful I can be!
Instead of clinging to little pieces of life and closing myself off to all my dreams, I choose to be the powerful, amazing woman I am...have been...will be again.
I am not perfect. I know, you're surprised...that I can admit it. I'm not always right. In fact I'm often wrong (much to my chagrin). I still struggle with weakness, challenge, opportunities for growth. Often I don't want to overcome...too often I want to curl up and hide away from trials, tribulations and their like.
But I'm a good person. I love people, not just the ones I know. I try to do my best all the time. I am honest even when it's not comfortable. I forgive though it's tougher to forgive myself sometimes. I deserve good things in my life.
It's time for me to live my motto, time to "go confidently in the direction of my dreams!" I choose to live the life I imagined, that I imagine today. I choose life and happiness and, while I may stumble, I will pick myself up, dust myself off and head that direction again and again until the closing credits roll.
I am blessed, truly. Thank you, God, the Universe, friends, family, life!
Focusing on the "things" (experiences, materials, people) not currently part of my life negates all the good I actually have right now. How ungrateful I can be!
Instead of clinging to little pieces of life and closing myself off to all my dreams, I choose to be the powerful, amazing woman I am...have been...will be again.
I am not perfect. I know, you're surprised...that I can admit it. I'm not always right. In fact I'm often wrong (much to my chagrin). I still struggle with weakness, challenge, opportunities for growth. Often I don't want to overcome...too often I want to curl up and hide away from trials, tribulations and their like.
But I'm a good person. I love people, not just the ones I know. I try to do my best all the time. I am honest even when it's not comfortable. I forgive though it's tougher to forgive myself sometimes. I deserve good things in my life.
It's time for me to live my motto, time to "go confidently in the direction of my dreams!" I choose to live the life I imagined, that I imagine today. I choose life and happiness and, while I may stumble, I will pick myself up, dust myself off and head that direction again and again until the closing credits roll.
I am blessed, truly. Thank you, God, the Universe, friends, family, life!
Friday, September 2, 2011
Healing
I'm not better. I'm not whole. I haven't recovered.
But time has past. It's past time, right?
I see it on my friends' faces when I start feeling sad--they really don't want to hear about my heartache, they can't understand why my heart still aches. Some even tell me that I'm better off without him or they try to tell me that, since he didn't pick me he must be a jerk, that I deserve better.
I'm trying to "move on" (though no one can tell me how to do it). I pray that I'll wake up and be over him, not love him anymore, not miss him in my life. I beg the Universe for the desire to desire another man. I wonder when I'll want to have sex with someone else.
I want to heal. Please God please help me, help me heal.
But time has past. It's past time, right?
I see it on my friends' faces when I start feeling sad--they really don't want to hear about my heartache, they can't understand why my heart still aches. Some even tell me that I'm better off without him or they try to tell me that, since he didn't pick me he must be a jerk, that I deserve better.
I'm trying to "move on" (though no one can tell me how to do it). I pray that I'll wake up and be over him, not love him anymore, not miss him in my life. I beg the Universe for the desire to desire another man. I wonder when I'll want to have sex with someone else.
I want to heal. Please God please help me, help me heal.
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