I was talking to a friend last night, and it hit me. Hard. I am getting a divorce.
Let's just say I cried. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't sobbing or anything. But I cried. For the first time in weeks.
I cried about not crying for weeks. It sounds like a silly thing to cry about, until you realize that you've been bottling up your emotions for so long, that you've convinced even yourself that you don't need to grieve. When in reality, grieving is normal and necessary.
I cried about the reality that I may not get married again. That isn't a plea for comments telling me that oh, of course I'll get married again. Because let's face it, I might not. Yes, I still might. But it could be years, if ever. And that scared me.
I cried about losing my best friend, and feeling that if my husband can't even stand me long enough to stay, why should I expect that anybody would ever love me again?
I went to bed after 3 in the morning and my alarm goes off at 6. I snoozed until 6:50, threw on last nights clothes, and left for work. Then once at work, I raided the candy cupboard and had 4 mini candy bars for breakfast, followed by a Rockstar. And I don't even care about the calories, about the caffeine that is making my heart race so badly as I type this, that I can't feel it hurt anymore. In fact, I prefer it.
I even turned my phone off. Anybody that knows me knows that there is nothing more rare than my phone being off, and not attached to my hand. Not even a blood red steak. (I know, lame joke.) Just goes to show that this is serious business, folks.
In less depressing news, I got glasses. Ray-Bans, cause I'm cool.
(Ignore the unenthusiastic face. Obviously this isn't my best day.)
Have a happy Tuesday.