“It is what it is, it’s not what it should have been, not what it could have been, it is what it is.”
I wish I could say that I got that from Maya Angelou. The Dalai Lama. Proust.
I got it from Nicole Kidman.
Can we all agree that that woman was put through the ringer? Think what you will about Hollywood romances. That woman seemed as shocked and heartbroken as anyone when she found out she was getting a divorce.
Which brings me to me, naturally. And walking into my silent apartment, on ‘my night’ – to find a note that told me simply that there was sweet potato pie awaiting me in the fridge. I had my heart broken into a million pieces last week, have had to find a new home, and change my whole outlook on my future – but THANK JESUS that there is pie in the fridge.
I just stood there and just nodded my head slowly, understanding
What do I have to be thankful for? That I don’t need to be hurt like this anymore. I know the pie was well-intentioned, but I know that the call / email telling me to stop packing, stop the process…is not coming.
I realized today that throughout this relationship, I had almost no life of my own. And that was no own’s fault but my own. His family became mine, his friends mine. That was my fault. All mine.
Sweet potato pie has a new meaning to me – I will never look at a slice again without realizing that letting go of someone dear to you is hard, but holding on to someone who doesn’t even feel the same is much harder.
I am proud that I made no less than five people laugh out loud today, one in tears, laughing so hard because of a dry, witty altercation I had with a co-habitant of an elevator. It seems that through all this anguish, I have not lost my sense of humor.
But I am definitely in touch with my feminine side, if you didn’t notice. Walking home after a long day of work, school, and a night with a good friend, I walked down Greenwich Street at 11pm, and yelled out loud. Not a swear (sorry, Stanford)…but instead cried out “Stay with me!” three times. Not to my ex-boyfriend. I don’t know who I was talking to – what possessed me – maybe I was talking to God, maybe I was talking to my grandparents, my guardian angel, or a presence I felt with me – but I felt the need for help. And I, in that moment, was not afraid to ask for it.