Fare Well and Tinder Goodbyes

Babble-On started as self-analysis quasi therapy for me. I promised myself I would do it for a year and we are just about there. I also promised myself that I would link my blog to FaceBook, or my other social media to gather followers and try to make Babble-On something bigger, I broke that promise. I never could muster up the fortitude to verbally vomit my life stories to the frenemies and trolls. I’m much more comfortable sharing with the small, intimate group of kind followers who have taken this trip around the sun with me. Cheers to you all. I humbly thank each of you.

A lot can change in a year. I hope you remember that when you feel at your lowest, your life is always evolving, always changing, and in five minutes, or five days, or five months, the ascent begins again, hold out for it, it’s coming. It always does. A year ago I was heart broke and soul sick. The implosion of Jake and I was one thing, but it was deeper than that. Getting dumped blows, but it’s not the end of the world, the personal blowback that accompanied it, that was the shrapnel that shredded me. I have more birthdays behind me than in front, and in these final chapters of my life, I still couldn’t get love right, not only not right, abysmally wrong. I was looking at decades of evidence that I was unloved, not lovable, and it soaked in deep. Soul sick. I was mourning Jake, but more I was mourning me, mourning time, mourning bad decisions, and mourning paths not taken. Pity party, table for one. I sat there for a minute. I licked some wounds. I analyzed my life, I looked in the dark corners, I went soul spelunking, I pried open the Id, the Ego, the past, the present, my heart, mercilessly. The brainchild born of that was this, this blog, and the idea of this year of relentless online dating, and putting the accidental cougar down for good. I was hell bent. I wanted more or I wanted nothing.

Writing was cathartic. I had a plan. The ascent was beginning. Forward motion, in any form, is good, powerful. We tell the truth around here so I’ll tell you, two weeks into it there was some backslide. Long story short, a lot of wine and he was 28 and a beautiful mistake. I immediately got back on the wagon and carried on. You were with me for Tony Oz and the pebbles I found in Birmingham, the politician, the single dad, Colorado, the super bad dates, the awkward conversations, the science experiments, all of it. We hash-tagged lived.

A lot can change in a year. Viking was here for Thanksgiving. He met my children. My youngest son has only been disappointed by the men in his life, with the exception of my father. He’s shy as a result, and he wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s too kind for this world. Viking saw my boy, really saw him, and he enveloped him, he put the sun on his freckled face. My son felt a man’s presence, his attention, absent of his being a pawn, absent of his being a means to an end. My uterus ached seeing the dynamic Viking created with my sweet boy – this good, good man.

This year has been life changing. I found myself, forgave myself, and put away my reckless heart. I’m proud of Babble-On, I created it, and that’s something. Stripping off the justifications and the excuses, I saw the men I have loved and the relationships for the first time, honestly, without the lens of devotion. Completely bare, I saw the deficiencies, the raw need, the nakedness of settling for half a man, half his heart, half a relationship. I found out that half is the tail end. I figured out that while I always “had a man”, I’ve been alone for twenty years. I’ve gone to weddings, funerals, parties, holidays, school plays, baseball games, graduations, everything and anything by myself. What I found is that I’ve been single for a long time, I just didn’t sleep alone. A year ago, I had enough, I could really change or I could keep giving pieces of myself away until there was nothing left. I’m worth more than half. By chance, fate, God, or luck I found Viking. This is my last relationship, he’s the one I’ve been looking for.  I am loved, the good, the bad, the marrow. Viking pulled me to him the other night and he whispered in my ear, “You are a gift”. I’m signing off, if you need me I’ll be growing old in the arms of this extraordinary man.

Go forth and conquer.