The boyfriend formarly known as Prom Date

I met Prom Date many moons ago. Back in the heady days of freshman year of high school. I was just getting out of my awkward phase and realizing hey, boys really do like me! And Prom Date was a senior with a thing for girls with crazy colored hair.

He destroyed my bridge.

We lost touch after he left school but kept bumping into each other as it's a small town and a small world. It's so funny to hear about those interactions from his point of view. We look at those memories so differently.

Prom Date and I starting hanging out again because of a mutual friend. Little did I know he was following my tale of IIH woe on facebook and madly googling information that I was too scared to look up myself.

The first time I went over to his house with said friend he looked me right in eye and asked, "are you happy?"

To my dismay I couldn't answer that question. I had no idea if I was happy. I hadn't thought in those terms in so long. So I thought about it. And I thought about it. And the answer was no. I went back to Prom Date's house and I really talked to him. I talked about why I wasn't happy and he reminded me it was ok to tell the person you were with what you needed. He reminded me what it felt like to stand up for myself and he reminded me that sometimes we all needed to be a little selfish.

So he needs a new name. This has been a long time coming, but I was waiting until everything was all said and done.

A new name for Prom Date... how about BiFF? Because he will always always always be my best friend. Always.

<3

Explanations

I have been gone for a while.

Complete radio silence.

I return with a new (old) last name a new lease on life.

I think subconsciously I was waiting to write this entry. There was so much I couldn't say for fear of offending the wrong person and causing the process to grow and lengthen. I wanted out as soon as possible and worked to make it as quick, cheap, and easy as possible.

When I walked out the door I didn't think it was goodbye. I thought there would be more talk and fighting. I thought there would be a last ditch effort at reconciliation that I would have to decline because quite frankly it was broken beyond repair.

I was completely wrong.

There was nothing and so all of the things I thought I would get to say to him have come out in bits and pieces and fallen on ears that did not need to hear them. Still they listened. They listened while I realized things that everyone else already knew. They listened while I cried over the loss of a life that wasn't wonderful to begin with. And they listened while I went through the process of regaining my self worth and remembering I am someone worth love and happiness. I am someone capable who can accomplish anything. And they encouraged and smiled and laughed and sometimes cried right along with me.

And I realized that this had all been available to me the whole time, but I had felt the need to put on this face. My everything is fine face. Well, everything wasn't fine. You hurt me and made me feel less and then made me feel like it was my fault. You made me feel guilty for getting sick and for not working hard enough and you made me feel like I was not enough every single day. And I became helpless as a reaction to you. Yes, it was my choice, but I wanted to force you to care. I wanted to force you to do what you had promised. It was sick, and twisted, and codependent and it is over. Thank god it is over.

And now I remember who I am.

I didn't take anyone with me when I got divorced. Not because I couldn't find anyone but because I didn't NEED anyone. I am strong enough to get it done on my own. I can stand on my own two feet. I can take care of me. I don't NEED anyone. I want people. There are people who I would walk over hot coals for if it meant keeping them in my life, but if they make the choice to walk away I don't feel like I will blow away because now I have roots. And they come from me.

I am a bad ass.

The best part? I did it my own damn self. : )