And I feel like shit. It was good to get away but sucks to come back to reality.
Mr. Furnace and I have restructured our relationship. He’s just not ready to exist together in certain ways and if he were a girlfriend I would totally recommend that he spend some time on his own healing from the last disaster. So he’s going to do that. The love is still strong, still there, the caring, the camaraderie, the let’s have coffee or hang out or have dinner, all still there. We just need to take the R word off the table for now. And while that makes me sad, yes, quite sad, no doubt about it, we have not nixed the idea for the future, just not NOW. We had a good talk today, it was healing in it’s own way, we’re on the same page. There’s hope still there (but of course no promises). We are still both interested in the idea of being together as a possibility at a later date, just not NOW. It was clear it wasn’t just me and wishful thinking. The right stuff is there. But darn it any way.
I’ve got nothing better to do that’s for sure. I need to heal my own damn heart. I’m a mess still.
I admit I’m pretty destroyed over this job loss. Not because I miss the job, I don’t. I’m grateful they let me resign gracefully so that my record is clean. But I’m scared about the future. I’m tired of being broke and tired and scared and and and and lonely and alone.
I was fine on the vacation. Did stuff, hung out with dear friends, one of whom I haven’t seen in a decade at least. But I woke up this morning to drive home 550 miles (which I did in 8 hours including pee and gas breaks) and I can’t stop crying. Just crying my eyes out. I wondered if, or more accurately WHEN, that was going to happen.
I’m not digging planet earth all that much today. . . She is a harsh mistress.