A few months back, I said something in passing on a blog post about how I’d only had feelings for one person since separating from Jesse. I mentioned how I didn’t know if it would ever progress past friendship, but sort of acknowledged at that point (at least, internally), that I wanted things to hopefully turn into something. Just a couple of weeks later, I was the lucky girl getting asked out by the boy she’d been crushing on for eight long months. I had some apprehension, since this would be the first relationship since my eight years with Jesse, but after a lot of talking and thinking, I knew it was something I not only wanted, but was ready for. Boy, was it lovely.
Was. It ended too soon, and I’m not ready for it. I really, really like this guy. I’m not yet at the point where I’m ready to start settling down again. I’ve got school to finish, a divorce to finalize, and just in general, life plans to figure out. I still need time to not have the stresses of a super serious relationship upon me. I don’t need or want that. Even so, I was thinking to the future with this guy. Beginning to have those thoughts like maybe it could go somewhere, eventually. It wasn’t just some cute, sweet boy that I enjoyed spending time with. I was getting to know him – to learn about his aspirations, his fears, sentimental moments from his past. We were growing. It sort of all ended in a flash though, and although I won’t get into details, I’ll just say that I’m crushed. I wasn’t ready for this to end. I wanted more. I know there’s more there to be felt and said and had.
Above all of that though, where the hell did this come from? I didn’t know I was at the point right now where a break up would hurt this bad. I hadn’t proclaimed my love for this guy or anything, so I certainly didn’t expect it to hurt so bad when I realized… this is it. Done. When did I even allow my heart to open up to that kind of hurt? I hadn’t realized I had. Screw break ups. This is a terrible feeling.