Vacation

I hate when vacations end.

Aren't we supposed to return from vacations feeling refreshed and raring to go? Ready to take on the workplace with renewed vigor???

Notsomuch in my case. I think vacations just reinforce my urge to throw in the towel and play hooky. Every day. But alas, this is un-possible. And I am back in the real world, freeing the less fortunate from the bonds of unholy matrimony, already reminiscing about last week.

Fella, btw, survived vacation with my family with little to no damage. He faced a few "what are your intentions" type questions, mostly asked in a haha-I'm-just-kidding-but-no-really-I'm-totally-serious-what-are-your-intentions way, but handled it all quite well and everyone is none the worse for wear.

Much beer and wine were drunk, much food happily consumed, many naps taken. It was relaxing and fun, and the moon thought so too.

Full moon rising

Fellapdate

Fellapdate. Get it?  Fella update? Fellapdate! It's genius.

The lovely and talented Keanie Beanie commented on my last post and hoped that Fella was filling the hole left my Mr. Nonexistent. 

First I want to say that it's only noticed on occasion.  Much of my feelings about that relationship are related to my anger at myself and how I wish I had handled things differently.  But Lord knows I've blogged about that before. The missing of the nonexistent man is more of a wistful occasional passing thought, but one that can be particularly striking when it's connected to someone that elicits such a repellant reaction from me.

Fella is an entirely different creature. I can't quite figure him out.  He's not like anyone I have ever dated. He doesn't try to keep me guessing or "keep me on my toes." He doesn't make himself distant or out of reach or unavailable. I don't feel like I have to convince him, as I've said before. If anything, he's convincing me and that's a nice change. It's nice to be the one that gets wooed. The woo-ee. :) 

So Fella is not the guy I thought my ex was, nor do I want him to be. However, he seems to actually be what I think he is... and that's a good start.  He shows himself to me. And as Maya Angelou said and Oprah repeated, "When someone shows you who they are, believe them" (I will refrain from correcting Ms. Angelou's grammar, because she's earned some poetic license in my opinion).  The ex gave me glimpses of who he really was, and I didn't believe him. I believed in Mr. Nonexistent.  Fella shows me who is over and over, and it's consistent with what I believe him to be. 

He is going with me on vacation with my family this month. Willingly.  Even eagerly.  He likes hanging out with them.  He fits right in to the crowd. He plays the Wii and splashes in the pool with my niece. 

Of course, he's not perfect.  He eats too much too fast.  He whistles sometimes and that can be annoying. He wants to talk to people, for heaven's sake. But these are things I can handle.  These are things with which I can live.

And because of my experience with my ex, I am ever more appreciative of that.

Nonexistent

Sometimes I think about something, or something happens, or I hear some news about something or someone from the past. And I wonder how my ex would react if he heard. Especially when that piece of news would finish a story that started back when we were together.

When that happens, a thought flashes across my mind that I miss him. But the idea of missing him makes me want to vomit.

In fact I threw up a little in my mouth just typing that.

And I realize now that the person I want to tell, the person I want to talk to about it, the person I sometimes miss...

Doesn't exist. And never did.

"You'll only miss the man that you wanted him to be" is a line from a Chely Wright song I loved years ago. And now I understand it. And that is whom I miss. The imaginary, nonexistent, man in my head. The man my ex wasn't, didn't want to be, couldn't have been if he tried.

And even though he was never real... sometimes, I miss him.

Unfiltered

Y'all.

P has a blog.  If you have a minute, mosey over and visit.  Don't forget to feed the fish!

Did I Say That Out Loud?