Jan 11
The Break-Up Posted by Leah

Week…Whatever.  Week Whatever:  down 35.5 pounds total  (Hold on for a sec whilst I take a VERY deep breath…umm hmm…okay…you may note that this weigh-in puts me at 12 pounds heavier than I was when last I took stock of such things in September.  That stings.  You may also note - or am I the only one who notes such things? - that this means I’ve gained almost half of my weight loss back.  That bites.  Let’s just get rid of it, shall we?  Let’s get rid of things that sting and bite.  Word!)

Hola kiddies!  Welcome back.  Damn if it isn’t Monday already. 

So…it’s official.  Her Hotness is single.  Yes, it is indeed official.  Happened Tuesday night.  And it sucked.  It sucked and blew all over the place, but you know what - it didn’t end me.  I’m cereal.  I thought it might be the end of me, but it totally wasn’t.  You could even make the case that it was the (re)beginning of me.  Kids, the RLHM (Real Life Hot Man) and I had the kind of break-up talk that one hopes to never have, all “you did this” and “I felt this” and “you hurt me this way” and blah blah blah and I walked away…no…crawled, crawled is a better word…no…stumbled, stumbled is the PERFECT word…I stumbled away from it feeling like a foolish, selfish failure, like the worst kind of person that anyone could ever know let alone date, and I lost it.  I mean I lost it.  Gone.  Me gone.  Over him.  Him who couldn’t see me for me but could only see the ”me” that wasn’t good enough or kind enough or giving enough or whatever enough for him.  Didn’t see me for the me that is the person you guys know, the crazy party gal who laughs hard and plays hard and pines hard for the things in life yet to be for me…he never saw that.  Never.  But that didn’t matter.  Not Tuesday night.  Not this past Tuesday night that found me, the only me there is, crumpled in a heap on her kitchen floor feeling not good enough or kind enough or giving enough or whatever enough for anybody ever!  

Kids, may I make a confession?  This was my first.  No, not THAT first!  (Come on, I’m Her Hotness for chrissakes!!!)  This was my first real, adult…something.  My first real, adult relationship, the first time I thought this might be IT, the it that leads to marriage and kids and Roth IRA’s and all that grown-up crap that seems so elusive most of the time.  So trust me when I say that I had no idea how this break-up would pan out, emotionally speaking.  I had no idea just how much of a mess I’d be, I had no idea how long I’d be a mess, etc.  You get the point.  You’re in your mid-thirties and you have a template for most of your life, you know how you’ll react to most situations.  It is the rare moment that you are faced with some entirely new shit to deal with.  And so it was that I found myself Tuesday evening with such a rare moment. 

And how did I do, you may ask.  Well, I lost it.  I already told you.  I flat out, full tilt lost it.  But not for long.  Not for long, indeed!  I immediately fell into the comforting, outstretched arms of my friends and spent a classic post-break-up night (i.e. lots of wine and ice cream) that served as a virtual tourniquet for the swelling tide of emotion threatening to bring me down, down, down.  That I mean this both literally and figuratively is a testament to a) how awesome my friends are and b) how absolutely lucky I am to have them.  Thus did Wednesday morning find me feeling…curiously free, though slightly worse for the wear.  By the end of the day I found myself telling peeps that I felt like myself again, the me you all know and love.  And by the weekend I was back in full Leah mode, all activity and plans and fun and whatnot.  The cloud that hovered so precariously over my new year moved elsewhere.  I loved and lost and learned a hell of a lot along the way, and I am pleased to believe that I am the better for it.  I may not be ready to date anyone just yet, but fret not.  Her Hotness is coming back.  Just give her a little time.  She’s on her way back!!

So if you’re wondering why this week lacks your necessary Hot Manspiration, well…I’m just not feeling it…yet.  I’m still rubbing my eyes at the breaking of this new dawn.  I don’t want to slap some piece of hot ass up here because I have to…Hot Manspiration is ALL about desire, not duty!  Let me get my sea legs back, so to speak, and the Manspiration will flow forth like Hot Manna from heaven.  Time.  It’s all I ask of you guys.   Time and a buttload of support.  Can you give me your buttload?  Please!

Ha!  See ya’ll next week. 

P.S.  The Hot Dog says hi.  He’s on my lap, and he can’t wait to be the star of next week’s entry.

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