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Sunday, June 1, 2008

It's the little things that are so BIG.




Last night was one of the hardest nights I have had in a long time. I was graciously given some photos that broke my heart. My past has a huge scar in it that happened almost 7 years ago and yet it feels like a week ago. Now, it feels like it happened last night. I went on Friday night and saw the movie of the year, Sex and the City. I loved the series and literally spent an entire weekend watching them all on DVD once. Now, the catch is, this movie had an event in it that echoed my 2001 story. If you have seen the film, you are probably feeling sorry for me right now and to that I say...don't. I was 20 years old and had no business marrying anyone, let alone the man I chose. Almost 7 years later, 27 years old, and madly in love with my boyfriend of 2 years..Mr Anthony Lewis...I know it was the right thing. It was the right thing, however, it ripped my heart out and did a mexican hat dance on it.




That being said, I got photos last night of a certain someone's wedding. Yes, the wedding that I should have had 7 years ago. The same colors, the same groom, the same in laws in the front row. The only thing different, the bride. It wasn't me, it was my 2 weeks after a 6 year relationship breakup rebound girl. Now, I should say that they have been together for about 4 years now so she earned it, but it still felt so raw to me. It wasn't that I love her groom because the word detest doesn't even come close. It isn't that she took my spot in a relationship I had just left because my sympathies were with her even then. It was my wedding. It was my dreams. It was my little girl with a towel for a veil on her head fantasy and mine is ruined and hers continues.




I am here in this amazing relationship with my man who makes me strawberry desserts and calls them "the romance" *see photo* and my heart smiles at that. He holds me through the night while I soak his superhero t-shirt in my tears over a 7 year wound. He jokes around about how said idiot's wife looks like chewbaca and I laugh in spite of myself. He tells me that I am going to be a beautiful bride and that his love for me is real. I am still in pain. Seven years and the wound has festered. It is infected, inflamed, and might cause me to lose a limb or two. I am broken in this wedding spot. I can't find the wedding spot in me to be able to medicate it. All I can do is cuddle up on the couch and literally wail and lament as if someone is poking a stick into my heart. I have lost my dreams. He hasn't lost anything, including weight. I have lost everything.


Is it crazy that I still own the pajama pants I was wearing when I got the call that day saying "I just can't marry you Erica." I still remember the wedding cake coming into my house on rehearsal day while he stayed 2,000 miles away in California not having to deal with any of it. I am angry that he still hasn't dealt with any of it. My wedding dress is in someone's closet, stored for eternity because I can't bear to look at my $1,500 mistake. More than any of those frivalous details of a wedding, my heart has been on ice for 7 years. I haven't been able to go into a bridal shop or think about what I might want for my wedding. I have lied to myself saying I want a small wedding in vegas or the justice of the peace will do. He stole from me and he continues to. I need to find out how to stop allowing this thief to steal my dream. I need to heal. Everyone says that I have to grieve it. How long? I have been grieving for 7 freaking years! I am over grief.


Brokenness is an understatment today. I have searched my heart over and over and I know that the only thing I am broken about is that he gets to be happy and I get to be hurt. I get to worry that Anthony won't show up. I get to worry that I won't be happy on my big day because the memories will be too much. I need out of this. I begged God last night alone in my living room to just make it go away and he hasn't. I need him to free me from this awful pain. He is married now, it has happened. Soon he will be having the babies I should be having. Soon he will be a parent when he has no idea how he stunted my life. God, please make him pay. I can't forgive this and I want to. I want to forgive it and move on. It is just paralyzing for me.


Now, I am going to end this post by saying...Thank you God. Thank you for a man that smiles when anyone says my name. Thank you for a man who doesn't complain that he only got 2 hours of sleep for work because of my blubbering ass. Thank you God for letting me dodge that bullet. But God, help me! Help me heal.




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