UGH the process

I watched Ms. J get married yesterday to an awesome man - seriously awesome and it was full of joy and hope and all the other amazing things and in a small way it did hurt my heart and yet thankfully it didn't really - the joy was a blessed covering over it all. However, once the party ended the real work, the real work of getting into the rough part of the break up had to begin. And so I started my steps.

Step 1 - Sweat the bastard out of my pores on a dark dance floor, in the company of safe people. My toes are brutalized but that was absolutely necessary.

Step 2 - Be awkward. I am fully, maybe too much so, okay with making others awkward as I am awkward. I will take a conversation to that point etc and I am happy to be awkward in my love and devotion. I'm also apparently down with making myself terrified for a moment while being that possibly cruel person sitting on the fringes of LG's life (this morning literally in church) and poking every so often is a hey NLLL'er, remember me, I'm not going to fade away, I'm going to make you, when I'm damn ready look at me, know me and know that you didn't break me but that you also were an asshole to me - maybe those words you said will ring in your ears like they do mine. On that note I will likely not continue attending, it took too much work to make him disappear from my line of sight while knowing he could see me. I am happy with being a nagging presence on my own terms, I don't need him getting any stealth cornering moves up and yes if you're wondering I was calculated enough to leave his keys at home. I am handing those back on MY terms

Step 3. Stock up your house-sitting with good soul nurturing food and some bad stuff - help ride the waves AND FLOWERS.

Step 4. Being affirmed in the blessed company of amazing new friends and an old one and have the words of affirmation from a female pastor, reminding me that in my Mennonite and social justice ways I am not a heretic for affirming that we must consider socio-economic (and race) issues in violence/war, birth control/family planning and just shalom. Shit is real peeps, and being a white Canadian middle class educated woman means I don't really know how real the shit is but I'm under so illusion that it smells nice, that's for sure.

Step 5. Go to sleep, knowing that AE (and KAB by proxy) will be present to support and love through the possibly brutal process of handing back the keys.