This Moment Brought to You by Humiliation Central

As I was leaving my hairdresser's today she said "You've got something stuck to your bum!". With that embarassed feeling making my stomach feel all yucky, I felt around and pulled off a sticker. Turns out the sizing sticker from the new t-shirt I decided to wear today managed to adhere itself to my behind.

That's just what I need - to go around advertising my ass as XL.

Hold the Phone

So, as it turns out, I'm a grown-up. That happened sometime in the past 10 years without me realizing it.

25 is looming. Looming. I mean it's 6 months away, but to me, that's still looming. 25 means 5 years till I'm 30. I want to marry someone older than me prefferably, which means he'll be even closer to 30 than me. Eeegads.

I've realized recently that now that I'm done my BA (and have been done for a year, I might add), I should probably think about the next step. Logically that seems to be grad school, but I don't feel old enough to be thinking about grad school. Then I realize that if I had done my BA in 4 years like you're supposed to instead of 6, I could conceivably be finished my masters by now and that really makes me shit the proverbial brick.

Let's just back this bus up a bit here and figure out where the hank time went.

My Peace I Give You

I know, I know, I have been a horrible blogger so far this year. I've got nothing in the way of explanation, other than...I just don't wanna. So there. But today I feel like writing a bit and so I will. And then this blog will probably again sit silent until the urge strikes again. So just keep being patient, intra-readers. Keep being patient and keep checking because you never know what might change.

It's been an interesting few months. They've flown by. Like, really. Seeing as I work in a university I still measure time like students do - in terms of semesters. And this semester is done this week. Like, that's just nuts.

Since January I've been on a, how shall we call it, roller coaster journey. It's a whole long story but in January Justin and I began talking about getting back together. It blindsided us both - but it seemed that God had opened doors to at least allow that conversation to take place. Justin was in Regina finishing his RCMP training and so we started by just sending emails. He graduated in February and came home for a week before moving up north to his first posting. We spent some time together that week - that was both good and really tough. We decided to keep moving in the direction of getting back together, but agreed to take it slowly.

We took it so slowly that it just never went anywhere. It was such a frustrating time for me. He had enough distractions with his new life that it was easier on him. For me, that's all I had to think about. And then I'd start to worry and panic - but over and over God just gave me peace. And wisdom. Finally I sensed that it just wasn't happening on his end. Even though I had chosen to open myself to everything that being with him would mean, Justin could never quite get his head there and so last week we decided that our futures are still without one another.

Now we all remember how horrific it was for me the first time I had to break up with him. I never wanted to do it a second time. I never thought I could survive a second one. But you know what? I'm fine. I won't say there haven't been a moment or two of sadness or a bit of anger, but they have been very brief moments.

The best way I can describe it is that I am free. I don't have to wonder "what if?" anymore. I would have wondered forever, I think, if we'd made the right decision the first time around, if we could have made it work after all. Now I know. And it's fine. This peace is so unlike me. I'm a worrier - I feel everything really strongly with my heart and my heart and my head are rarely on the same page. It's a gift that they are now, in this. I can let him go, like really let him go this time, for good. I am free of what has held me captive for the past two and a half years and I can look to the future. I've believed that I could never love anyone again the same way I loved him - and in a way that may be true. They say that you never forget your first love and maybe I'll never totally forget what it was like to love him and what we learned together - because I believe we learned a lot. But I hope that next time, with the right guy, I love differently. I hope that I love with more respect. I hope I love with more patience. I love being in love - there is no feeling like it - and I hope I get to do it again (maybe soon? So much for patience...). But now I have hope that someone else out there is better for me. No more "what ifs?"

I've kept a journal ever since breaking up with Justin the first time. There is an unbelievable amount of pain in there. I've read over it a few times and the weight of that grief is crushing. I threw it out yesterday. No big ceremony, no burning it in a fire in any type of feminist symbolic action. I just looked at it and knew I didn't need it anymore. I didn't want it anymore either - there's enough hurt in there to drown a horse. So I just put it in the trash bag and didn't give it any more thought than it needed. It's over. Finally.

God's peace is pretty good.