You never know what a situation truly consists of until you get to step back and look at it from afar. Or, until you get slapped so far back that it knocks you on your ass. Cue the second option for me. I was given 2 weeks of space and time. I have used this time to my advantage: in every healthy way possible.
I get consumed. A lot. By a lot of things. His accident really helped me to lose sight of what was happening. It wasn’t the only catalyst, but surely was the biggest. I wonder what life would be like if it didn’t happen. I wonder what he would feel like if it didn’t happen. But it did. And this is what we are left with.
My self esteem issues, and a mistake he made triggered me asking about a girl he added to (stupid) Facebook cued a string of events that I wish never happened-but in a way, I’m glad they did. It was bad. Very bad, and has resulted in where I am sitting right now. Watching WWE, editing photos of him, hoping that he will call before the 2 weeks are up. He was the catalyst I needed for massive change. And change I have.
The first day was monstrous. Painful. I cried, a lot. It took my best male friend to sit me down and talk sense in to me to make me calm down and accept the hand that was dealt to me. Like it or not, I had to start facing my hidden skeletons and fears.
My ultimate fear? Myself. Mirrors were my worst enemy, but on some days they were my best friend. Today? I’m ambivalent. I bought a full length mirror and I put it in a place where i can see my lower half every time I walk out my bedroom door. I did this before this two week period, but I had it stuffed behind some clothes. It’s not anymore. I also decided to be nicer to myself. Trying on clothes was a HORRIBLE event for me. I talked absolute trash to myself. Something along the lines of “what the hell are you doing? Think your fat is gunna fit in there? Think it’s gunna zip up? Those jeans are WAY too skinny for you. Why are you shopping in the Misses section? you know “woman’s world” is your home.” Oh yes. All that, and worse. It got to a point where I rarely enjoyed putting on makeup (which I love) and had no reason to look nice. My boyfriend never could leave the house for over a month, and when we did leave the house, it was just quick trips. Looking pretty wasn’t really an option. I felt very unpretty. I felt like life revolved around one thing and one thing only. I almost lost the love of my life, and he made it very obvious how much he needed me.
So guess what happened. I lost sight of myself. He lost sight of himself. We lost sight of who we are as a couple. We lost sight of that amazing “unit” we always were. Was it all because of his accident? Hell no. We both did things to make it happen. One of the things I wish he would do? Be more open with his wants and needs, and to be more open with compliments. I have all the times he’s texted me I’m beautiful, or how sexy I am locked in my messages-because they are so rare. So… What have I been doing this week?
Day 1: CRIED. A LOT. REPEATEDLY. Got sick. Repeatedly. Barely ate, couldn’t sleep. Bad. I talked to my best friend, and by the next morning I had a plan of attack. Not for my boyfriend, but for myself.
Day 2: I looked at myself. A lot. I looked at the curves of my hips. My newly found waist, the bumps of my breasts right under my raised clavicle. I looked at my eyes. The intense green, blue and gold that make up the almond shape, shaded by heavy eyelashes. I giggled at my bulbous nose: my mom’s nose. I touched my razor blade cheek bones. I made a vow to be nicer to myself. I made a vow to show myself the love that I show Him, and to show myself the love I want from Him. I decided to go clothing shopping.
Friday: I cleaned, I spent time alone. I missed Him so much. I looked up information on how to get my certification to be a Military Fitness Specialist. I also contacted my *grrr* former commanding officer, Patrick, and discussed something very special. I have been toying with the idea of re-enlisting as Reserves, but after talking with Patrick I think it’s best to focus on my career, my family goals and the goal of being a Specialist.
Saturday: I slept. For the first time, I slept. I got up, and got a message from my ex fiance saying he has been in Daytona for the past year and a half and if I wanted my “shit” back to go get it. My “shit” being my dog tags from the Air Force, and hopefully some pictures and stuff. I donated blood this day. I had a good lunch at my best gf’s job. I relaxed. I went clothing shopping. I went to Ross and picked out 8 items: dresses and pants. The dresses ranged from 16-20. Mind you, this time last year I was a 26. I got into the dressing room. Took a look in the mirror and got naked. I stood there in my skivvies for a second and just waited for the bad things to stop rambling through my head. I coached myself through everything. When I picked up this really pretty white and black dress, I looked at it (a size 16) and started the smack talk. I then stopped. Said wait. This is ridiculous. What do I have to lose?? I sucked it up, slid the dress over my head, adjusted …. and it fit- and looked PRETTY. I walked myself through everything. I remembered Levi’s face when he saw me in the black dress I wore to my best gf’s graduation. He looked so happy. I kept that in mind. I looked at myself for everything that it was. JUST ME! Nothing else.
Sunday: Meeting day. I had an amazing meeting with K and his wife in regards to the show I’m shooting on the 17th of Sept. It was amazing. I was made creative director. Taken out to a nice lunch with a beautiful bottle of Reisling and had a great discussion with him and his wife. He mentioned my boyfriend. Asked if he could volunteer to be an assistant to me. A relaxing job of just dumping photos. Free food. Free drink. I wanted so bad to call him right away and squeal with delight about what had just happened. I caught myself as I almost hit dial… and called my parents instead. I told my mom, promptly hung up, and went to my hideout: the bookstore. After that… I cried… A lot.. I just wanted to share it with him. I came home and told my roommate/best friend, and she was surprised. “why does it look like you’re about to cry?” Cue the tears. ALL i wanted… was just to share it with my man. To ask if he could be a part of it. Even if he said no, at least I still included.
Monday: I think that is today. Today was a bit rough. I had a really bad dream last night, and it made me very sad for a vast majourity of the day. I did work out again today. TRX during the commercials of WWE. I made a great dinner of asparagus (steamed), roasted pork and roasted potatoes. I miss him badly today, but I have made so many changes that I can’t wait to tell him what i’ve been working on. How i’ve changed thoughts about myself, about us.
I also made a photo diary. Once a day (or more) I snap a picture of something that can define my day. I’ll be posting them on my FB.
This is a hard week. I just wish I could hear his voice.