Check-in

Eight months today.

Two years ago today, we watched the Superbowl with Glenn's family in Connecticut. One year ago today, we watched the game at our friend Steve's house in the Valley. This year I am ignoring the game altogether. It was a spectacular day today--sunny, 50s, clear and spring-like. I went for a really long run and tried to do stairs at the stadium but it was still iced in. The upside of being single right now is that I'm under no pressure to waste all or part of the day in front of the TV. My sports fanaticism burned out this past fall after the Red Sox won the World Series, and I couldn't care less whether the Patriots win the Superbowl. Again. Maybe it's just that I don't want to deal with a room full of testosterone. I miss testosterone.

This past August, I had dinner with Doug and Annie, a young, hip couple who somehow ended up living around the corner from my parents in suburban hell. Doug called off an engagement years ago (before meeting Annie) and he said it took him almost a year to stop feeling like he was defined by the experience. At the time, I felt like I would never reach the point of not being defined by my breakup with Glenn and the pain it entailed, but I think I'm getting there now. I don't know quite when it happened, but now when I wake up in the morning, I don't wish like hell for the day to be over so that I can put one more day between me and what happened. When people ask me about my life, the fact that I called off my engagement isn't what comes out of my mouth first. I'm actually tired of talking about the breakup. Every new experience is a fresh topic of conversation, another addition to my life a semi-well rounded single person. In a weird way, it's like when I was 12-year old Bluebird (the hippy-dippy version of Girl Scouts) and everytime I learned a new skill, I got a patch or a bead that my mother sewed on my blue felt vest, Individually, the beads and patches didn't add up to much, but after a while the vest got full and it looked like I'd actually accomplished something with myself. Except there's no official club for Almost Brides or people who get their hearts broken.

Higgypiggy once told me something about the nature of loss that really stuck with me. He said that you never really get over life-altering loss, you just learn to integrate it into your daily life in a way that doesn't shatter you. When he told me that, I was still one big, open emotional wound. I felt as raw as chopped meat. Today, there' s still sensitivity but it feels more like I'm wearing a few internal bandaids over a lot of new, pink, healthy tissue. I don't know if my heart will ever be whole in the way it was before I met Glenn, but I can hope that the person I've become because of him will open me up to new, better, more wonderful experiences. I guess we'll see.