So – yesterday’s post caused a bit of concern amongst my friends and family.
Don’t be. Please. The time time for concern was when I was in, as Anne of Green Gables would say, “The Depths of Despair.” And we all know what Marilla said about that. (If you don’t know, you need to re-read the book.)
I am fine as sand. Or, fine as paint, a girl I used to work with used to say.

I don’t know if it’s Brené Brown, or my counsellor I’m quoting anymore, but “asking why gets you nowhere.” Why would someone behave that way? Why would I allow it?
It’s boring. I am bored with it. I have reached critical mass on trying to figure it out. Peak care.
I am coming out of that WTF WHY stage. And that’s what I was saying yesterday. All of this has been me packing away the big and little hurts and the lies. (Having just moved, I have ample packing metaphors I can use here.)

95% of the time, I just don’t care anymore. Someone was mean to me. Someone knocked me on my ass. Boo hoo. Yeah, I’ve been grieving the loss of myself. For months. As for him, it was all fake and lies, a big, giant, manipulative PUA-inspired game. It’s all for show, there’s no depth. It’s impossible to mourn something that wasn’t real.

Everyone knows by now I haven’t been writing. Rather, I haven’t been finishing anything. I thought I needed to cough up the hairball to write about other stuff again, but my workshop group has given me some better advice. DON’T write what I’m good at – forget the novel and the essays. Try something new – (I’ve started writing a mystery – nothing like a little murderous mayhem to cleanse the palate). DON’T read craft books or take courses. READ (Where’d You Go Bernadette? is pretty great, and my friend Marc’s ms which is going to be so much fun to work on.)

It’s easy to lose yourself when someone you have put your trust in is inconsistent and mean. “I know how to hit people where it hurts most.” Indeed. This was confirmed by someone else he did it to after I started telling. The thing is, we ALL know how to do it. The majority of us choose not to, though, because it kills the soul.

Oh well. I’m not the first and I won’t be the last. I was told I wasn’t strong, and that hurt – because trust me, carrying and pushing that weight nearly broke me. I am not Atlas. I am not Sisyphus. But I am stronger than I look. Don’t judge what you don’t know. (This is where the dinner scene in Ellen in Pieces by Caroline Adderson comes to mind – and I quote loosely – Don’t compare my real accomplishments to your imagined ones.)
I stayed too long. I can write post after post blaming myself. I probably always will. I looked for grace in the wrong place.

One of the last things he said to me was “Moving isn’t going to do what you want it to.” What’s that? “It won’t make you happy.”

He was wrong. This move is exactly what I’ve needed. I stayed too long there, too. Change is good.

I’ve got this, guys. I’ve got it all in hand. Spending money like a sheik, staying on top of school stuff, and  playing piano. Piano is pure joy. (Yes, even theory- compound duple time? Oh yeah, easy.) I’ve learned two of the three pieces that could always make me cry:  Hallelujah (up to the key change, damn black keys!) and She’s Got a Way. I recently took the third, Night of Silence, to my teacher with a request to learn it before Christmas. “This is easy. You know all of this stuff,” he said. “You can learn it now.”  A far cry from “old people always have trouble learning to play.”

All is well, and all will be well…
I am surrounded by people who tell me what I can do, not what I can’t. Imagine.

I have a massive and unbelievable compendium of right wing millennial, patriarchal, Trump-loving, feminist-gay-trans hating quotes and lines.

I have a cautionary tale.

When looked at a certain way (thank you, Sonal), the whole thing is hilarious – and I am getting my sense of humour back.

Years and years ago, in my second short story class, I started a tale about a woman on a bad blind date that started with the line: He was so right wing, he flew in circles.

I guess now I have the ending.
And endings are what I need.