Thursday, January 8, 2015

Loved and Lost

If my last post had me smiling from the top of the IDS building, this one has me relating with sea creatures at the base of the coral reef.  No, don't pass the Kleenex.  My nose is too chapped.  I don't want the pity smile either, that just makes me squirmy.  Just hang with me.

About a month ago, I started to realize that the job of my dreams was making me toss and turn at night.  The qualities that made me feel like a Rock Star Barista, made me feel like a frat boy who's off his ADHD meds.  I just wasn't built to interface with a computer screen for the bulk of my day.  And, *accidently* throwing an extra pump of marshmallow syrup in a Campfire Mocha did not have the same result as a misplaced number on a spreadsheet.  I'm much more about the forest than the trees. was a tearful goodbye while I packed up my baskets, pencils, lip balm, Rolaids, Advil and my snacks.  Sigh.

It gave me a few extra days to gear up for Christmas.  I was sad, but had plenty of *happy, happy* going on around to hide in.  Facebook peeps have seen the pics.  Christmas was full of fun.  The week between Christmas and New Years is always a hoot.  And I got my New Year's Eve kiss.

Then new trouble started ringing my doorbell.  A warm cozy snuggle with my sweetie started giving me a deep heartache.  The electric charge of our kisses took a motherly turn. I wanted to watch TV by myself and didn't want to talk about my day.  SUCKS!!

We used to laugh all the time.  We went fun places, did fun things, hung out with fun people.  Suddenly white noise surrounded us when we were together.  One thing led to another and we found ourselves having the *I can't do this anymore* talk.

Face to face.  We cried.  We hugged.  We talked about the gifts that came from the relationship.  Not the new sweater, necklace, or some-people-are-worth-melting-for Olaf.  The healing balm that only love can provide.  Ours was a "better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved" kind of relationship.

The pain of loss has had way too much prime real estate in my heart. To the point that every time I experience it, all the past losses get to parade by and slap me upside the head.  Then pile into a Quarterback sack kind of heap.   It seems like I just can't trade them in for other emotions.  Loss is tricky like that.

So now I have time.  Lots of time.  Can't promise I'll get the basement clean or catch the dust bunnies running loose in my living room. I'll be taking the time to catch up with my next footprints, instead of trying to run ahead of them.