Not a tear shed since that whole Christmas shut-in ordeal, and day after day I feel stronger. Better. More whole and complete.
Except… Except for those moments when it still hurts to breathe. When I catch myself thinking about the future (and what may or may not be) and I feel like I lose my footing. Like I stumble. Arms flayed out reaching for anything to hold on to.
Anything at all to keep me upright.
I think Mr. Fix-It provided that something to hold on to during the first few weeks following this last failed cycle. Almost as if that was his purpose. To keep me grounded during those murky weeks when I otherwise surely would have fallen into the abyss.
And the more and more I think about it, the more I realize that once he had fulfilled that purpose, there really wasn’t anywhere further for us to go. I can’t even be mad at him anymore, because the truth is; I think we would have died out eventually anyway. We were just at two totally different places in life. And while he was pretty great, I think I knew almost from the start that he wasn't the one.
But, he was there when I needed someone. When I needed a distraction. I was so afraid of letting him see me weak, that I kept moving after that failure. Even though every other piece of me wanted to crumble.
Had I crumbled then though, I don’t know that the pieces could have been put back together. I really believe Mr. Fix-It was placed in my life when he was to serve as a salve. And it was a purpose he fulfilled brilliantly. I was able to keep my head above water with him to distract me when I otherwise may not have been able to.
And now that he’s gone and we’re over; I see that purpose he served even more. Because the funny thing is, as head over heels as I thought I was for him; I don’t miss him. Like, at all. I haven’t had to fight the urge to call him, or struggled with the heartbreak of being dumped. I’m over it. And I got over it pretty quickly.
In all honesty, I’ve been reminiscing about the ex far more lately than I have been about Mr. Fix-It. Which really just leaves me superbly annoyed with myself, but that’s not really the point. The point is… Mr. Fix-It came into and left my life at precisely the right time. He served a purpose. He filled a role. And then he was gone.
And that’s OK.
Except that now, when I have those moments of breathlessness (those moments when something totally random and unexpected manages to dig itself back into this still healing wound of mine)… I still find myself reaching. Grasping at the air for something to hold me up. To distract me. To take my mind off of whatever it is that is threatening my current stability.
I am getting through the day to day right now by doing just that; getting through the day to day. As long as I focus only on the present, I am fine. Golden even. Able to laugh and smile and enjoy the moments for what they are.
It’s when I start to think about the future that I falter. During those brief glimpses of forever when I have to face what may never be.
(Courtesy of Google Images)
That’s hard for me. Thinking about forever. A forever spent barren. Empty. Incomplete.
When I let myself imagine a lifetime of never carrying a child, I almost start to hyperventilate. And I’m left wondering “Will it always be like this? Will it always hurt like this?”
It’s one of the reasons I have such a difficult time even considering a hysterectomy. Beyond the fact that I just truly do not believe it’s the answer for me, it’s the permanence of that reality that is more than I can handle. At least now, there is still some glimmer of hope. Some possibility left in the far off future that perhaps my dream could still come true. Perhaps some miracle could land at my feet, and it could all work out.
If I allowed everything to be taken out though, that possibility would be no more. And I would have no choice but to acknowledge that it is never going to happen for me.
No choice but to face that future head on.
I’m just not ready to do that yet.
And it is in those moments that I try to, when it still hurts to breathe.
So I’m doing my best to remain in the now.
Focused on today.
Living in the moment.
Sucking in as much air as I can manage.
Hoping it will be enough to sustain me.
Enough to keep me standing.
During those fleeting periods of time.
When it still hurts to breathe.
