"It's been 7 hours and fifteen days..."

 (Sinead O'Connor)

So, it's been a week since he broke up with me. Or rather, said, not in a cute Billy Crystal voice, "I would not be good for anyone right now."

And I've been doing a lot of thinking. And a lot of reading. Watching Friends. Thinking about hooking my DVD player up so that I can watch Bones and SATC.

And here's the problem I keep butting up against: I don't think the boy is right now "leading man" material. I want to be "leading lady" material, but it I'm really honest, the boy would be a two episode guy, like the new neighbor that Rachel fogged out with pesticide in the basement and then went on a date, but it turns out he had a really inappropriate relationship with his sister.

And I want him to be like Chandler, who knows that he loves Monica. He actually does remind me of early days Chandler. He also reminds me of Mr. Big, the good, the bad, the ugly.

And the fact of the matter is this: RIGHT NOW, he is not available for anyone. (Which is actually sort of comforting.)

And right now, neither am I, as I grieve what was. We had two amazing months. Because I am a romantic at heart, and because I loved him, I can't, not right now, say "NEVER AGAIN, MR. BOY." I cling to the stories of my mom breaking up with my dad again and again over nine years. (Now happily married for over forty two years...)

This post is full of me writing things and then erasing them. But it just takes time. I've been listening to the audio of "It's called a break-up because it's broken," which was helpful when my high school best friend said she didn't want to be friends anymore. (Because there are no good books about what to do when your best friend breaks up with you.)

I vacillate: is he Mr. Big? Or is he Berger? Or is he that two episode guy? Right now, he's the guy who broke my heart. And I'm the girl who needs to heal. 

And comments are closed. I don't need advice right now. I just need cupcakes. Where I need to get? I will get there. I'm right on time.

A little bit better...

Woo hoo! Yesterday's breakfast, lunch, and dinner stayed with me!

No matter that I have a wicked stomach ache right now, I think I have crossed the blackout point!

There is comfort in having that conversation with a friend, the conversation you hate to have, but you know you must, or you will never keep down another meal, and that friend says, Bingo! (In agreement.)

Bingo is my new favorite word.

***********

My parents, non-readers most of the time, have been reading Blue Like Jazz. Which makes me want to re-read it, even as I am so enjoying Dinner with Dad, Piano Girl, and...

I pull Blue Like Jazz off the milk carton shelf it sits in, one of the last vestiges of my college furniture. The cover is embossed--I don't think I noticed that before.

I flip it open to the Author's Note.

"I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.
After that, I liked jazz music.
Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way.
I used to not like God because God didn't resolve. But that was before any of this happened."

I put the book on my pillow, with the intent to take it with me, perhaps as I sit in Tazza before meeting John this morning. I will be walking home from Midas (my car is going in for its yearly inspection.)

Max is reading About a boy, and enjoying it. It does something to have recommended and lent a book to someone and they tell you they're enjoying it.

The first of three (I think) Open Door babies was born on the 31st! Welcome Ian! So yes, it is raining babies. But they are so very cute... It feels nice not to want one right now, though. I can enjoy being Auntie Sarah Louise.

**********

Last night at our Breaking Free Bible Study, it was just Kelly and I. It's a video study, and years ago, I had watched the video for last night's lesson with Kelly. I had forgotten most of it, except for this: Beth Moore was telling the story of when she was signing copies of her first book. All they could find for her to sign copies was a huge garbage can lid. And she felt it was a reminder that she had been in the trash for so many years. She had been in the trash can, but she never was trash. But that God was the one that took her out of the trash can.

Kelly and I sat for at least an hour after the video, her sharing about her time away, me sharing about my time here. How precious it is to have such a friend. We both have so far to travel...but we are traveling, side by side.

Oy! look at the time! I must go off to Midas.