As in, you’re such a dope for hoping that things might turn out differently this time.
We’ve been for a follow up appointment with the RE.
We’re on the calendar to try again.
It’s not for a while.
But we’re not on the same protocol.
So we could try naturally.
As though there’s anything natural about it at this point. And really, what’s the point?
Know how that turns out. (BADLY).
Except, maybe this time it will be different. (ya think?)
I feel like a teen girl with a bad boyfriend I think I can change.
Hope. What’s the hope in that?
is not really normal at all. It’s just a ‘one foot in front of the other’ kind of life. it is just a life.
Not nearly as happy as the old normal. Not as shiny nor as bright. No skip in my step. No secret joy in my heart.
I suppose it’s not as dark as it was. The world isn’t as heavy. The air not as thick.
That’s what time does. It takes the things you never really imagined would happen to you and fashions them into something that resembles normal.
The new normal.
The only normal that’s left.
Sorry about the lack of posts, just isn’t much to say. So i’m focusing on the house, (we bought a money pit and I’m looking into the next round of fixes), making ice cream – maple with wet walnuts this weekend, work, everything but how I feel about olive.
lost. Sad. Angry. Hurt. Stalled. Sorry. Heartbroken.
I had no idea I’d feel this heartbroken for so long. I knew I’d feel a lot of things for a long time. But the numbness of the pure and utter heartbreak persists.
So I go about my days filling the empty spaces with quoting things we likely won’t have done any time soon and planning what ice cream to make next.
Because I’m still craving the damn ice cream. And in craving it I get to feel things are just as they were before the numbness. Before the were not.
Before the heartbreak.