Let The Un-Friending Begin


I jest.

Sort of.

I had to de-friend my ex today.

When we parted ways on Friday I asked him if we should un friend on Facebook.

He said no, but he would unfollow me and I said I would do the same.

He requested 90 days no contact.

I agreed.

Four days in I get a shared post from him on Face Book.




Not allowed.

90 days.

Not 4 days.

I believe, that’s really the only fair way to be, I haven’t contacted him in regards to it and it was innocuous, but it brought a pang to see his name on my phone alerts.

I spent the morning doing some extra writing and when the time was right I made some phone calls.


Un friend the man.

Not because we can’t be friends, I suspect that given time, yes, we will.

But that it is just too soon to see anything related to him.

Why hurt?

I have been withholding from scrolling through his Face Book feed and looking at the updates, but until I un friended him there was the temptation to do just that.

I deleted our message history, I took down the photographs, I went back to single, and I practiced restraint of pen and tongue.

I have written nothing in my blog to say it was this person and he did these things, said this, or acted in this way.

I don’t want to be that person.

I have integrity and I believe he deserves privacy just as much as I do.

To that affect I also un-friended two of his close friends who friended me when we first began dating.

There is nothing to our relationship except that I was dating their friend, outside of that, not really a connection and as such I purged them too.

It felt uncomfortable to do it.

Although I knew, oh, I did, that it was the correct thing to do.

It was the thing that was going to spare me a lot of unnecessary pain.

There are no victims.

Only volunteers.

I choose today to not cause myself more grief by social media stalking.

No thank you.

I have better things to do with my time.

In fact, I have a lot of things to do with my time.

I ran the list of things down to a friend I bumped into in the Mission while I was working with the boys.

She said, maybe you got enough on your plate.



There is that.

I do have a tendency to run away from my feelings by keeping myself busy.

Then tonight at dinner, Udupi Palace, in the Mission, I rattled off what I am up to this week and my companion said the same thing, basically, slow down, be sweet to yourself when you are in pain, or sad, let the feelings come.

I have to say I am more surprised to have had the depth of emotion over the relationship.

It was short.

But it was intense and a lot of stuff came up.


I didn’t blog about much of it, as it did not seem fair to process my emotions around the relationship on my blog while in the relationship.

I relegated that writing to my journaling and morning pages.

“Have you been writing a lot of long hand?” A friend intuitively asked.


I had let down the blog a little bit, not posted as often, posted trivial’ish posts, but man, I was writing.

“It shows, your blogs are really good,” he replied when I told him I was still putting pen to paper and doing more so with that since I was not blogging as much.

And let me be fair to myself, I was still blogging.

Just not every day.

The first couple of weeks we were together my writing was sporadic and I brought that slowly back in line.

My ex also asked about that a number of times “did you blog today?”

I am a better person when I write, I suspect that it helps me process something in a manner that is spiritual in nature, a kind of cleanse, an end of day summarazation, on retiring I review my day, I look over what I did, what I could have done better, how I felt.



Perpetually human.

Suspended and open.




I miss him.

There I said it.

But I am grateful that it is done.

It was done a few weeks ago and just the process of walking through the ending with proper closure.

I am ready, though, to not miss him.

To get on with my life.

I know that means that I have to allow the feelings to happen, anger, disappointment, sadness, a bit of grief, a bit of regret, a soupcon of maudlin misery.

It’s not too bad.

It’s just a feeling.

It will pass.

The good news?

You’re going to have feelings.

The bad news?

You’re going to have feelings.

I am a pink glittery heart of crystal, all refracted and shiny and sparkling.

My inner emotional weather is not flat grey.

The two shades are pretty together, sometimes a compliment, but ultimately I have to find someone who wants all my glitter pink tattooed froth.

There is a deadly seriousness under this all.

But at my heart, in my heart, my emotional interior.

It is pink.

Satin pink.

Shimmering pink.

A rainbow of happy warm light.

Sometimes it is white light, but mostly it is soft and rosy and serene.

I am finding my way back to that.

The pink is shining through the grey clouds and as the stars wink on the horizon above the indigo sea, I know, I know emphatically, with all my romantic self that there is abundance, so much abundance for me.

I left my heart un protected.

I once thought that was a stupid thing to do.

Now I know that my heart is a big girl with big girl pants (pinstriped in silver glitter, not everything needs to be pink) and that she can take it.

Because I am not heartbroken.

Yes my heart has been broke open.

But it is not broken.

It is just bigger.

More capable of holding whatever comes for me next.

I suspect it will be more, and more and more.

(And it breaks my heart).


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