The Mental Divorcee

So today, while on my way to the bank with my mind on my money and my money on my mind, I came to the realization that I have been trying to make Mr. Anonymous into a substitute for the intimacy of Mr. Miserable. Which simply makes me the most pathetic person you'll ever know.

The thing is, Mr. Miserable and I had years under our belt and an intimacy and repertoire that reflected that. Mr. Anonymous and I have known each other for a month - maybe month and a half now. A more appropriate name would probably be Mr. Rebound, because that is obviously what I'm doing. That is not to say I don't like him or enjoy his company, but I can't keep shoving square pegs into round holes (a phrase I've become all too well acquainted with).

So now, here I am, 22 years old and feeling like I have just come out of a horrible, bitter divorce. It hurts. I won't lie. I had to do it, there's no question, but my God, does it really have to hurt this bad? Do I really have to feel so lonely when I have no one to call at the end of the day just to say goodnight?

I know it will have to be years until I ever find that again, because it took me years to find that, but I just have to keep hoping that someday, somewhere, somehow I will find that again - and next time, it will be the way it should have been all along.

Growing up and moving on,

Joanna