I am cautiously looking out of my bomb shelter to determine if I have yet won the war. I've been here once before, thought the way was clear and it was safe to come out only to have more bombs dropped on my door step. But this time it feels different. I don't hear anything. I don't see anything. I feel a sense of calm that I didn't before. Have I finally won? I have I really, honest to God won?
I think so!
I have been trying to update my blog for days now, but I have been so incredibly busy at work and at home that I haven't had time. I have been wanting and craving to write this post for days. I have so much to tell.
My reading with R was last Saturday. For the next two days, I moped around wondering how I was ever going to let go of things well enough to call it quits and have B contact me. I ached for the day, but reminded myself I had a few months to go yet. Every time I thought of her, I wondered if she was thinking of me in that moment too....
Then something changed. It was like a twig snapped in the silence and it changed everything within me. I began to notice that I was exhibiting anger. I was being short of patience with everything and everyone, which is very out of character for me lately. By Wednesday the anger was out of control. I was seething. I yelled at a complete stranger in a parking lot for being inconsiderate. Yes, she deserved to be yelled at, but I am never the person to call out complete strangers for lack of consideration. Not only did I yell at her, I did it twice!
I couldn't take it anymore, so I texted my dad and told him what was going on. I told him I was angry and I had no idea why. He texted me back, or so I thought he did, and told me to sink into the feeling to determine where it started. I angrily texted back, "B. I'm sick of this! I want it to be over and I want her gone. I don't want to talk to her. I don't care if she is going through crap. I want her to quit sending me vibes and go the crap away for good. I've had it!" I sat for a few seconds, almost shaking with rage. I sent my husband an email and asked if anger was part of the grieving process. He replied that it was. I had never been so angry about all of this.
I was about to text my dad again when I realized I had sent my last reply to R. I was shocked and thought, "Oh sh*t! Did I send the first text to R too?" When I looked, I had indeed sent it to my dad, but R replied. This is how our conversation went:
R: The anger is hers as well.
Me: Can I give it back? I don't want it. I want nothing to do with her. I just want to move on with my life. I yelled at a stranger today. I don't yell at strangers. How do I break the bond?
R: How strange was the stranger? (I laughed and caught his double entendre.)
Me: LOL! She was in her car on the phone and blocked the path between the store and the parking lot, so I yelled at her. Then she drove down the aisle my car was on, I yelled at her again. I am not a confrontational person.
R: Did you explain that to the officer?
Me: The one who took her to jail?
R: So you're saying that B has been put away in a safe place for good.
Me: I want her to be. How do I make her stay there? How do I cut the bond?
R: Throw away the key.
R then called me, but I was stuck in a work meeting and asked if I could call him back later. During this time, I felt my rage subsiding. I realized it was all a part of the grieving process that I had not yet been through before. I prayed that this was the final step toward my freedom. I then started envisioning the bond between B and I as a piece of skin that held us together. I took a knife to it and began cutting us apart. I knew it would take most of the day to make it through.
My husband suggested I go get a massage that night to help me relax, also to keep me from taking any of it out on him. Wise. Very wise. So I did. But before I left the office that evening, I knew something had changed. I felt different. My rage was gone, but so was the ache, the pain, the desire to peek in the windows of B's life. All of it was gone.
When I got home after my massage that night, I sat with my daughter while she was in her swing and envisioned making it through the last of the bond. I had cut all of the way through it. I called my dad and we walked through another visual that is now safely resting in the garbage can outside my house waiting for pickup next week.
Since Wednesday my only thoughts have been that it is over. I don't ache, I don't wonder what B is up to. I don't wonder how she is doing as a new mother. None of those thoughts invoke emotion or mental pictures anymore. When I think about her now, I think about how it is over and I am finally free. There is no more bond. It feels completely different this time than it has ever felt before. I'm praying this is it. I don't want contact. I don't want the bond. I want her gone for good.
I wish her all the best in her life and pray that she is happy. She deserves to be happy. I deserve the be happy to, and in order for that to happen, I need to move on from her. I'm praying this is where my happy ending starts.