That’s how my employee described me today. Ice in my veins. Cold hearted. I talk a big game about how I don’t care about things. And things don’t bother me. They do; but I’ve gotten really good at shrugging them off.
The truth is, I’m a little bitch. I’ve shut myself down because I get too emotional. And I write about it and release it all at a more appropriate time.
But that aside, I’m an idiot. I’ll always be the first to admit it. I’m an absolute fucking moron.
I’m trying this whole friendship thing with my ex. And I think it’s only working because I now live two hours away and he no longer knows where I live so I can’t just ask him to come over and he can’t just pop by.
And I know I shouldn’t. But when you spend over five years with someone (I’ll do a post about our relationship another day) it’s hard to let that go to nothing. If we can’t date, and we can’t because I know it won’t work, then we should be able to be friends, right? He knows my ins and my outs. My self proclaimed flaws and my weaknesses. He knows what I strive on and what makes me tick. And sometimes he reminds me of things I’ve forgotten about myself. But it’s hard. Because it’s easy to fall back into a routine. Back into someone you know who is familiar. And maybe I’m starting to get a little scared that I work so much that I don’t have time to meet new people and I have yet to make a friend here in the city. But I think maybe it’s one of those weeks.
I know next week I’ll — hopefully — remind myself of all the great things I’ve done since we split. And all the great things I’m continuing to do. But at night, when I’m laying in bed solo it’s hard not to want someone here. And maybe I don’t miss him, but the idea of someone… I guess I’ll figure it out eventually.