Where to Go

I am doing a lot of weird exploring online with a bunch of different thoughts rummaging through my head.

But a lot of it is about where I go from here. I have to respect Daddy’s decision, and I have to move on. But I miss my muse. The last few years have been all about the dynamics I have, or want. I don’t see myself looking for it, though, anymore.

I drove to the doctor’s office today, and Apple Music was really sending me signs. Lots of sad breakup songs. It immediately jumped the shark off my last playlist into it, too. I couldn’t get through a single song. One was from Gracie Abrams, and I remember so well hearing Risk for the first time. Thinking about him. Thinking about those moments is hard. Wanting this to be more like before, when he needs a few weeks to do family stuff.

But I was talking to the doctor, going over my sex life because I always order STI testing every year, no matter how much I have had or not had. She is a great doctor, even if she has gotten too busy. I love how she listens and doesn’t judge me for falling in love with someone from across the world and dealing with the hopelessness of it.

We both joked, though, about how I was just moving through and sliding into home, and she was going to be sure I get through it, at least physically.

One bright point today: my osteoporosis meds are actually working. I went back up to 5’4 1/2. I was so afraid I had dipped down to somewhere near 5’3. Not quite the shortstack I thought I was. There is still time, though.

I don’t know where I am going, but hopefully it is not a place with lots of bad breakup poetry. For your sake as well as mine. And it is not like I am not going through grief; I definitely am. But I know the drill. The last year has seen so much of it. And I know it is not linear.

I won’t forget the time together; I won’t forget him; I won’t ever see a connection like that. There is no way. And I will likely never give up hope of something.