I suppose I should mention I quit drinking last week. I believe it was Thursday the 3rd. I know we’re supposed to keep track and say “dood I’m on like day whatever” for sobriety purposes, but I don’t feel like that. I just don’t drink right now. With my body, I probably shouldn’t. Not only did I quit drinking but also have been weaning off the pain meds so that when I finally get to the *heavens open and birds sing* PAIN CLINIC I’ve been referred to, I know exactly what my body and the Fibromyalgia feels like with no drugs or alcohol.

It’s been surprisingly easy not to drink. That is, until something happens and I feel like a drunk trying to dry out. Sunday was one of those days. Things happened, information got to me that, while it really shouldn’t have, rocked me to the core. This after an amazing weekend with L and a noted increase in intimacy and commitment for both of us. But Sunday morning, I wanted a drink. So I cried. For 2 hours. Because people should be who you know them to be. People can’t be so different than who you’ve known for so long. It just can’t be. Instead of drinking, I used my “emotional health” skills and just looked around me, identifying how I felt. This place I’m in? It really IS all kinds of awesome. Some examples:

*I’m headed to school (pre reqs for nursing) in the Fall
*I’m sober!
*Did I mention I’m sober?
*I know what I want to do with my life and I’ ALL over it!

There are good things in the land of 30something and I am rockin’ the changes.

Mostly.

See, I got the bright idea to change my relationship status on Facebook. I know, I know. I live with someone. We are in a relationship. It made sense. I know it was the right time to do it, too. I just didn’t foresee the way it would speed up the end of my life before all this.

The soon to be ex Mr. has been out and about, seeing several gals and trying to figure himself out. I applaud him for being so outgoing and want him to be so. very. happy. The way I felt about a date he had this last weekend just made me…let go a little more and turn toward a new life I’m building on my own.

It seems the Mr. was inspired as well, and quickly made an appointment to draw up papers. We both knew this was the probable outcome, I suppose I thought it would be several months or a year before we actually followed through. But the Mr. is a very take care of business kind of guy and really needed some closure. I don’t blame him for a second. But it hurt like hell.

I went with him, sat through a brief and simple session with the legal gal and left her office with my heart in my shoes and a thousand panicked questions.

Should we be doing this so soon?

What will the kids think?

Should I tell L?

Ohmygod. Please stop. Please just stop this. I don’t want this. This is NOT the way it was supposed to be!

I want a drink…

I spent the bulk of the day with the Mr. talking about plans, visitation, financial things and trying to make all of this as easy as possible. Then we started to talk about how it felt. What went wrong. How we got to this horrible, gut-wrenching place. Neither of us could keep the tears from forming, but both kept them barely at bay. We agreed this is how it should be. Hell, if the world turned upside down and we ended up back together, we could always get married again, right? Right?

As the day wore on and we covered more painful subjects, the searing agony in my body due to lack of pain management combined with my emotional state to slowly but surely wear me down. By the time the Mr. left, I was sobbing. The majority of my family is either not supportive or feels I have lost my way, leaving only a few options for people to turn to when the world has closed in on me. Since I often will close up, it’s probably best that way.

I cried until L got home, and then I cried more. And he held me and listened to me spill my doubts and fears, things that I know were painful for him to hear, but he held me and promised I would be ok. We would be ok. And he was going nowhere. As he drifted to sleep I felt him waking every few minutes to rub my shoulder and helplessly try to dry my eyes again. The light in the window faded to dark and I was alone except for his steady breath.

I closed my eyes and once again I was in Gold Hill at Sammy’s Gato Gordo. The man onstage was very clean cut and conservative looking. When he opened his mouth and began to sing I raised an eyebrow and took another look. We sang, played shuffleboard and pool, he juggled billiard balls and laughed. We fell in love. We married in the perfect little church in a beautiful ceremony on the first day of spring. We had a family. We lived and we loved and we hurt, and now it’s over. In August we would have been together 14 years. I was 23 when we met. The memories bring searing hot tears down my cheeks and an ache in my chest deeper than anything I think I’ve ever felt. I know the reasons. I know they are valid. I know they aren’t going to change and this is for the best. But he was everything to me. And somehow I think letting go isn’t going to be as simple as signing a piece of paper.

And I still really want a drink.

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