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2005-09-06 - 11:02 p.m.

I got some news yesterday. I was having my weekly chat with the folks when my mother gave me the �you will never guess who we saw�. She was right, I never would have guessed. Sunday, while trying on shoes at a local shopping mall, my mother looked up to see a long haired man with sunglasses on top of his head and for a moment she thought it was my ex. Then she looked again and realized it was indeed my ex and his mother. There was also a woman with them who might have been one of his sisters or his girlfriend (she wouldn�t know, she only met the sisters at the wedding more than five years ago). I can almost picture the drop jawed look on my mothers face confronted with the man who left so much wreckage in his wake. There was no confrontation, (what do you say to the parents of the woman you cheated on and left to shoulder the entire debt accumulated during your marriage?) they just turned on their heels and left the store. There is no telling how long he has been back in NY. My parents and his mom live in neighboring towns so he could have been there for a while without running into them. In fact even the encounter this weekend was a fluke since my parents rarely frequent the local outlet store and my ex was a ways from his mothers apartment (where I assume he is staying, if only temporarily). There hasn�t been a local sighting of him in Ca since April and I was wondering whether he was still here.

There it was casual and normal, your ex is here and not there, how do you feel? What do you think?

I�m, well, mixed about it. On one hand I am relieved. With him more than 2000 miles away my chances of �running into� him have diminished considerably. I must admit that I had been secretly dreading that happenstance, certain that it would come at some inopportune time (as if there is a good time to run into your ex) so knowing he isn�t here anymore is reassuring. Of course there is the possibility that he was simply �visiting� but realistically that is not likely. It takes a lot of money to get back home. I have only managed a couple of trips and I work for a living. A man on disability, even with help from his girlfriend, can barely survive here in So Cal let alone save up money to vacation on the East Coast. No, most likely he returned to the safety (safety net) of his home town and his mother�s (enabling) love. This means I can exhale; it is finally and completely finished. I am lost to him.

I am not sad per say, or am I happy, relieved is the closest emotion although that probably isn�t right either. My life has moved on in more ways than one since our final meeting in the parking lot outside the bank. My broken wrist is mending, I continue to grow in my job, I have moved out of the RV and in with my Beau (who began his new afternoon shift today and left me this quiet evening to catch up with my thoughts). My disease is under control rearing its ugly head only occasionally and with less severity than in the past. I write more and more and have even tackled memories of my travels which were wonderfully interesting but forever entwined with him, the aforementioned ex, and up till now too difficult to speak of let alone write about.

I want to tell my tales but I learned early on how difficult it was to change your personal pronoun use after a few years. I would tell a new friend about how I made this trip or that and would use �we� and they would turn to my love to ask a question and he would have to admit it was not our �we� but another �we�, my past �we� that walked the streets of the French Quarter and dined on crawfish and fini gumbo. These stories do not belong to us they belong to that other us. I must take back my stories. I must find a way to make them mine enough to share in the same way my Love can tell of his time in the Marines without discomfort. I love to hear about that time in his life but I don�t know how to share that part of my life.

I have started writing about my travels. I saw so much and met so many wonderful people and that belongs to me and is a part of me. I do wish I had kept a journal of my years though because I imagine I have forgotten more than I remember (time and alcohol has dimmed my recollection) but I will have to make do with what I can recall. I guess I feel mixed because I want that part of my life back and now with the weight of possible meeting gone I think I might be able to let go a little more. With every bit of letting go I get a piece of myself back.

Even now every mention of him comes with a collection of emotions, sadness, relief, anger (still), composure, interest, apathy and more, an entire spectrum all and none of which adequately explains the dynamic of our non-relationship. This I can share with you and with friends but not with the man I love and that brings a whole other range of emotions.

I loved once and now I don�t.

I love again but maybe not forever.

I look for comfort and security and find only truth and reality and the child in me, the one who holds a silly doll in her arms, wants there to be better answers to my questions than �I don�t know� and �You just never know�. That little girl wants to believe that if you are a good girl your life will be good.

Funny, even in the religions there are no promises for good in this life. Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. There is no rhyme or reason there is just �shit happens�. Doesn�t matter what you do, life is, until it is not.

Yes it�s just that simple.

Where am I going with this? I don�t know. I didn�t know when I started and I still don�t. Writing sometimes clears my head but sometimes it leaves wondering even more.

What do I do with this news? How do I make it work for me? Or should I just let it go?

I�m going to ask my crybaby what he thinks (can�t hurt).

I wish you Peace

~alison~


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