A Holiday of Sorts...

So, it's been a looong time ( I thought maybe I wouldn't use all the "o"'s but it seems to fit).

The role that my blog plays now is different from when I started it. I was reminded earlier today that it matters and on top of that I enjoy it. As my boss says all too often "It is what it is".

Initially writing here was like therapy and it was this great little outlet for all of the pent up pain and frustration I was feeling. It turns out that it did help - and hopefully helped someone else too. And then as things changed over the Spring I stepped back a bit and was, I guess, working through it all on a more internal level.

I dove into work, not as a way to avoid things but because I genuinely am enjoying it and having a great time. I feel like I have been working my butt off - literally. I need to get some butt exercises back into my gym routine so I keep on looking like the pic above right?

I dove into summer here in the city too. NYC can be this amazing place in the summer if you can handle the heat. We have actually had a relatively tame summer thus far in terms of heat and so I have been making the most of it with some trips to Central Park, laying out in the sun, and driving out to Rhode Island for a little romantic getaway of sorts. Maybe more on that a little later...

Yes, it's true there has been some dating and maybe a little romance. It's a hard thing to go through in some senses. After one very nice dinner out on this isolated little patio, some great conversation, and really good wine, I came home and I could not figure out this bizarre feeling I was experiencing. I thought about it and thought about it and came to the startling realization that what I was feeling was guilt.

That's right, I felt guilty that I had gone out and had such a good time, really enjoyed my company without being with my Ex. That's a little messed up right? It makes sense in some bizarre way, because those feelings had for so long been wrapped up in being with my Ex and any reference to them was bound to bring him back to mind. I was upset about it though. Mad a little too. Mad that it made me feel like a complete loser for keeping those feelings and all that was associated with them packed up in a mental box with his name written all over it.

And I was mad at myself too. Mad for not dealing with that sooner, or at least being somewhat more prepared for it. I guess you can't though. You can't prepare for that feeling. It blindsides you and can knock you down if you let it.

I didn't let it... and the next dinner was even better.