Promise of More to Come

I miss him. I miss his stupid humor. I miss his baritone laugh. I miss the moroseness of his absence and the tragedy, the drama of his presence. I miss his ringtone. I miss the feeling of annoyance that sometimes surfaced in his times of chronic pursuance. I miss his anger, most acute when I had been out drinking or with questionable company.

I miss his kids. I miss being their cool stepmother. I miss his dependability. I miss knowing there is a person in the world that I could call at outrageous hours of the night for absurdly simple maladies that would come running. I miss his inflexible confidence that he could correct anything that faltered me in my steps down the path of good. I miss and I loved how it angered him that I didn’t believe he could always fix, correct, and rebuild for me.

I wonder what it would be like now, us. I wonder if the alterations of my mind would have any bearing on our interactions now. I wonder if he has changed. I wonder if he would notice that I have changed. I wonder if my alterations would be maintained should I again become his better half. I wonder if he at all misses me, thinks of me, fights himself not to call me, or deleted my number. I wonder if he will take me back.

I want my resilience back. I want my clarity back. I want a new glass.

I won’t look out the glass he shattered. Obviously, the picture is distorted and the world is much better than I’d be able to see. I won’t blame myself. I won’t say I deserved it.

I might cry. I might be sad. I might make a playlist. I might play that playlist a few too many times. I might cry some more. I might think recklessly, but only temporarily. I might pine for him. I might sweat out my frustration for him. I might feel desperate. I might curse the day we met. I might cry, cry, cry.

I believe I am beautiful. I believe I am beautiful. I believe I am at least Christina’s champion and God’s champion, if I am not to anyone else. I believe that God will send me better. I believe that I will get over him. I believe that I am supposed to feel this pain and this pain will only further introduce me to the woman that I am.

I know that God will send me something better. I know He will send me healing. I know He will send me a forgiving spirit. Because He is, there is a promise of more to come.

I will keep in mind that it is natural to miss someone I let in my heart even if he did not prove to be worth the price of admission. Thanks Will.Yum.