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  • I am getting better at the break-up thing.
    The funny thing is, I don't really miss him all that much since I ended it completely. Or at least I don't miss him yet.
    It's hard to miss someone once you discover their lies. The lies have the ability to turn every laugh or kiss into fool's gold.
    During this break up, I've had to call in the recruits, The Other Me's. The Other Me's are the cartographers, care givers, excavators, archeologists, healers, managers, and soothsayers. These are the parts of me that can lift their head above the fog, march forward 0ne-by-one, and carry me when I have been to heavy to move.

    They arrived with kind, true words. They don't bark at me when I want to watch another Superhero movie from the confines of my pajamas and bed. And then there is the chocolate. And wine. They have taken the bottle away when I've had too much to drink or will steer my grocery cart completely around when I am headed for those aisles in the grocery store. They told me the Xanax will only make it worse while they combed through the matted fur of my anger and unforgiveness.
    They have said "Grieve" and not "You're just feeling sorry for yourself" or "Suck it up".
    They make wonderful lentil soup.
    They drag my ass out of bed, brush my teeth, put on clothes that still don't have remnants of food stuck to the front. The Other Me's help me do my job professionally by taking the heavy load of worries and placing them up on a high shelf until quitting time. They even booked an appointment with a counselor, knowing how much I'd kick and fuss about it.
    They also bought a plane ticket for me to get out of town on the very day that was supposed to be my wedding day. They said and knew "This is too much for you to be here right now. Evacuate". So I did. I hopped on a plane and visited a constant friend.

    While away visiting my friend, I was sitting in a cafe on 58th, alone, having a cup of coffee. I noticed a couple who had obviously finished a morning run in the park. They were just sitting there having brunch at a table set for two. I watched jealously at their laughing and at how their fingers danced together as they spoke into the eyes of the other.
    Tears stung my eyes and I tried hard not to look. Under my breath I murmured "It was all a lie. He was married and I didn't know it... he had no intention of marrying me. He took my money and our promise of faithfulness. Our love, the marriage license, the plans, the words... it was a lie."
    "No, hon, it wasn't a lie. For YOU it wasn't a lie," the Other Me's collectively spoke. While gently stroking my soul, one of the Other Me's said "I saw something in you that I haven't seen in the longest time. You trusted."
    "But it was all a lie," I firmly replied.
    "No, for you, it wasn't a lie," she said and I had a glimmer of a new thought that this wasn't just about the thief he turned out to be but the person I became while with him.
    When I came back after the smoke had cleared from what was supposed to be our wedding day, I realized getting out of town was the Smartest Move Ever.

    These Other Me's are helping me figure out how good it feels to do the simple things again with the greatest heart of gratitude. Like make Valentine's for my kids, bake chocolate cookies with my smallest daughter and smile when she licks the spoon. I comb my finger through my son's burly hair. I marvel at his blue eyes and wonder how much time I've got before he starts to get hair on his legs and face. I walk in the snow with my daughter so tall and coming into her own. I know she sees the hurt in my eyes and worries for my hurting heart. She holds my hand and takes pictures of me walking in the snow on my camera. I laugh at the little girl in her as she collapses down onto the snow with wailing arms and legs to make a snow angel. I snap her photo and remember how good it feels to hold a camera in my hands.
    My kids lead me to the words "Love the love that surrounds you" and this Valentine's Day, love comes in the form of pink construction paper hearts and glitter.

    Family and friends can't be with you 24-7 and the Other Me's are doing less and less of carrying the load of daily life for me these days. They still make me wonderful pots of chamomile tea and impose massive loads of self-care while offering the best judgements, kindest words, and solid companionship so I don't jump head first into another disaster. The past months have been littered with loss. Something deep inside has been fragmented. The bud opened and the petals tore, releasing a new fragrance all the while. In my soundest mind, I have not been able to put the pieces back together. I had to open or die closed in. In the tearing apart, petal by petal, I have found an inner terrain of the deepest friendships inside myself. Going back, would mean leaving them behind. So I journey in.
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