It was near midnight when I made it home from the gym. I considered skipping the workout entirely when I realized that day two of Erin’s fitness program is a rest day. “A rest day already?” I was disappointed to see the stop so soon after I had just barely gotten started. “I could just make tomorrow my first day.” The thought was not quite fleeting. I struggled with it as I sat in front my computer writing. The time was 8:45pm.
My ex-boyfriend insisted that I begin and that I follow the rules. “Not tomorrow. Today Amber. The contest started TODAY.”
I sighed with a mouthful of thoughts I did not say out loud. The first thought was, “Why do you even care if I try? It’s not like you love me anymore.”
I kept my mind from telling him the truth of my fear because sometimes I do say things like that out loud and it never ends well. When I put myself down or accuse him of not caring his reaction is always physical before he turns to stone. He flinches and pulls back like he’s just been slapped. “I will not tolerate talk like that. You know that you are special to me.”
My heart rejects his flattery as the demotion it is. “Special is something you call someone who is challenged with needs. How special can I be when your final answer to sharing life with my soul is NO.”I refuse to let any caring be enough because he does not feel what I feel and that is love. How is it possible that he can’t love me after two years and all our cherished memories?
The truth is that this last year has been one of the hardest years of my life and I wouldn’t expect anyone to want to sign on to it forever. I am surprised he did not dump me a long time ago if I am to be honest and I prefer to be. I haven’t been writing most of what we have been through as a couple, when we were a couple, though I write nearly everyday. I am quiet about some truth because our struggle is embarrassing when we measure how many people have it worse and how many others have it better. Why are we the A-holes in the middle who can’t seem to figure it out?
I do not know what to say other than groceries are a really big deal in our house. We celebrate food like the desert celebrates rain. I tell him I love him by investing in Almond Butter. The reality of our life is that $10.99 for a jar of smashed nuts is far too frivolous and where the hell is the glamour? There is none. We have been barely scraping by and the dead weight has been me. I am the FAT that needed to be cut from the relationship. He said it was him holding me back, but it has been me the whole time. I came along and made his life a struggle. He was happier before me.
It’s hard not to face that truth without tears. I have always imagined myself to be a catch, a prize worth cherishing, and yet the reality of a trophy is that trophies really are best at gathering dust for a win that happened once, but can it be repeated? I am thinking of a song written by Ed Sheeran called “Photograph.” It’s like the best parts of our lives are snapshots, the frame of one still moment frozen in time, and rest of life is fluid pain and struggle. Maybe your life is different than mine? I hope it is and I also wish you could walk a mile in my shoes. My future is the brightest one I see and then I know my daughter will be a super nova. I am inspired to show her the way just as my parents inspired me.
Mine is a life that I would not emulate. I knew that it was wrong when I was still very young and now I do not like sharing the truth of my path because it keeps me in a past that is more circumstance than nature of soul. We live in a world of judgement and persecution. If I lived in Salem I would be burned for my mind and not witch craft. That threat is real to me. Privacy is both a weapon and a shield from all opposition and when we do not understand we fear and what we fear we kill.
I carry a rubber chicken around with me to make myself a target. I only stop carrying it when I am afraid or I want to go unnoticed and most times I do. I do not want to live under speculation. I would prefer to go unnoticed so I can sit and watch the world in peace, so that I can write life the way it really is. Wouldn’t it be great if I could do that without hate. If life was like that and can’t it be? What if I tell the truth? Will people love it or hate it?
It’s 7:38am now.
I am eating a cookie and I am drinking my second cup of coffee. I haven’t looked at what I am eating for breakfast yet. One of the best things about Erin’s coaching program is that the meal plan is included for the next three months of the transformation challenge. I was too tired to go grocery shopping last night. I will this morning and then I want to go to the gym. Here’s the thing about rest days. They are IMPERATIVE and so are treat meals and so is life lived in real time. I intend to follow Coach Erin’s program and I want to stay as close to it as I can so I can honor her product. I chose her as my coach because she knows her sh*t and now I need to trust that her way is better than mine. I hear my father in my head now. “Respect is earned. Do not accept anyone’s way as absolute authority. You know the right way for yourself. Trust it.”
My heart is now in my hands again, or in my lap. I was doing so good for a moment and then I realized that he is gone for Montana. I heard him tell me good-bye, but for some reason I thought he would need to come back to the house for one last check. He is well long gone and the house is empty.
I hate that every day with him is good-bye. I hate that I am not on the trip we had planned to meet his mother. I was supposed to be going to meet her and now I am not. He wanted me to go as his friend and I am not his friend. I am the woman that loves him and I hope I am not the last to love him at this depth because he should be loved. People think he doesn’t deserve me, but what do they know about him other than that he rarely let’s me have my own way?
It has taken every conviction to stand for the respect and honor he could not allow me with an open heart. Every fight we have ever had has been me standing up to say, “I am the best thing that ever happened to you and you should want my every joy.” Do unto others… #love
I asked myself how long a woman should stay a girlfriend and my true answer is never. I am not a girlfriend. I am a wife. I have always been the girl you should marry.
But then love is patient and I have not been. I am selfishly pursuing my needs, but then what of his? Does he really need to live alone in solitude in the woods because as of yesterday I learned it is entirely possible.
I met a woman who is a primitive skills teacher. She laughed when she heard that we broke up because the guy I love wants to live in a cave in the woods. “I can totally relate to that!,” she was vivacious and totally happy. “I had to break up with my boyfriend of eight years because he refused to come out of the woods. We lived there for all that time, making temporary shelters and primitive fire. I thought he would want to come back to civilization someday but he never did. I hate that I had to leave him, but I love knowing he is happy.” Sigh…
There ain’t no sunshine when he’s gone. Can’t I just burn down all of the cities and replant life with a forest?
My body hurts and it’s not from yesterday’s workout. It hurts from the inside out, like there are fingers inside of my chest trying to pull apart my ribs. The fitness challenge forum on Facebook has been a buzz all day with excitement and women who are all pumped. They are jacked, and I feel like I just got sacked by the quarterback. I’m not trying to say I got lucky either. I feel like I got punched in the belly with a bulldozer.
I will not gain ground on my emotions until I fuel myself with the right nutrition. I need to make myself eat and yet the sick inside keeps winning until I just feel more sick. The happiest high of my life is born from being healthy and fit, but while I am degraded to this condition there can be no fix. I feel like a junkie at the rock bottom of everything. Except I know I have been lower than this low. Why is it so hard to pull myself back up?
Today has been stressful. My business has been demanding that I sit and sort. I hate that sort of thing. I spent half the day trying to find missing and important files and as the hours passed I felt my middle grow further into a guilt twisted knot until the burning took over all ambition. Now I want to turn myself off.
I scroll the fitness feed on facebook and it is intense. These ladies are fierce and motivated, dialed in and calling shots. Some are already pushing big weight and our first workout was yesterday. I did not use any weight. I didn’t even have an efficient workout because I was learning the moves and doing the routine at the same time. There was no good flow. I am not yet dialed in and comfortable.
4:09pm. I’ve eaten a chicken breast and I had coffee. I carry the food plan menu around with me. That’s about as good as it is going to get for now…