Last post I talked about my butterflies… how I’d had an epiphany in Chicago about 15 years ago and discovered that they may be the closest I’ll get to God – if they weren’t, in fact, him. I’d discovered them as I walked away my misery among the back streets of Wrigleyville in the early mornings.
I was back there this weekend.
I was waiting for something epic to follow that statement.
However… I got nothin’ for ya….
The butterflies were out.
It was still the same Wrigley.
I’m still bipolar.
I am still doing very well.
Yeah, I’ve got nothing sensational to write about.
The loss that I mentioned in my last post… I was actually proud of that loss. Can a person be proud of a loss? I’d initiated it. It was long over-due. But, as in the past, I chased it down and drug it back in so that I could be miserable for just a little while longer. The drug. It should be over soon though. He messaged me last night to prepare me that I will be receiving a Dear John explanation today. You would think that I wouldn’t even care. But I do. I will break down – yet again. Over two years of it… and yet again… he will wreck me. This time it will be for good, though. I’m fairly sure of it.
I’m still doing great in my head! That’s what matters. It’s still clear-ish as a bell. I’m still breathing… although my heart is preparing for some small bit of shattering in a few hours… I think I will survive it. Stronger than ever! That’s a good thing.
Sorry not much more to say. I’m in a holding pattern at the moment. But, it’s a positive one at least.