Mr. P.T. is still around, lurking. We don't get down, but we talk occasionally. Less and less as time passes. We hung out a lot that first week "apart" and he tried to get me to slip. I very nearly did. I was standing on the edge of a precipice and it would've felt so good to just dive in.
But then what? That horrible feeling when you realize you have to claw your way out of something you did to yourself. You know you're making the mistake when it happens too, but you think, "It feels so good, K. And it's only once. Are you REALLY disrespecting yourself if it's only once? You won't do it again. NEXT TIME you'll be strong. But this time, give in."
Well, screw you, masochistic voice in my head! I'm not going to dive in again. That horrible deja vu I got? I'm NEVER going to feel it again, at least not because of a mistake I KNOWINGLY made.
And, wouldn't you know it, the sax player texted me too! After weeks of silence, he, out of the blue, hopes I'm "having a good day". I'm having a lovely day. I'm having a lovely life. I'm not dealing with people who don't come correct and it's really freeing up a lot of mental and emotional energy.
The more time that passes, the better I feel about my decision. I'm respecting myself and sticking to I want instead of settling for what I can get. And when I'm doing it for the RIGHT reasons, I don't even feel as lonely as normal. That's a good thing. That's something you have to hold onto when the forces of negativity and disillusionment get you thinking that you're the crazy one, rather than the last one of ideals worth striving for.
So, I have to stay strong. And I will...
