Working title.

So my friends, the time has come for me to submit this short story i have been working on.

The thing is, i really need a title for it. A good friend suggested "Ground Up" as a triple entendre reflecting the themes of death, pain and rebuilding, but i think perhaps it's a little heavy. I have been using "Girl Meets Boy" as the document name and i wonder if i should just stick with that.
Although the story is heavy in parts, it also has elements of whimsy and magic so i'd like to come up with something that encompasses all of that. I also thought about giving it a really long title like "That time she started getting mysterious letters delivered to her but she didn't know where they were coming from" but it might not print well.
The story is about a series of letters so maybe that's what i need to focus on. hmmmm. Maybe i can just call it "Love letters." Too girly? Too annoying? sounds too much like The Notebook for my liking.
What about "How To Write A Love Story."

hmmm.

Bret Easton Ellis

He is so cool. Even his first name is cool. Bret. Only one t! You were born cool Bret. You really, really were.

I met him last night. He talked about doing blow off the hood of a Ferarri (fictional) and a bar (non fiction.) He talked about "the process" which apparently does not exist except for the fact that when you are a writer, you cannot help but write. He talked about influences, obscure authors i had never heard of, bitchy interviewers, grinder, Delta Goodrum. I LOVE him.
And afterwards, I touched his shoulder and tried not to propose.

Stress Less Princess.

I used to work with young people-young women mostly at one stage of my "career." (yes, i am still in denial that i have one)
Anyway, there was this group to help young women deal with stress and the participants called it "Stress Less Princess." I love that even though most of these kids were facing seemingly insummountable challenges in their lives, they could break it down to something so simple.

I'm taking a leaf out of their book.

I guess it comes down to making a choice.

Life is full of choices. This is not the first time i have written about this. I feel change is on my horizon. I have a choice to make; I can live the rest of my life clinging to the shards and fragments of my former life. I can keep myself warm with guilt and responsibility. I can hide in denial, use the phrase I Will Never Forgive Myself to keep the pain of loss somewhere in check.

Or.

I can pack all her stuff into a box and give it to my ex husband. I can place it on his lap and say "This is not mine to carry anymore." I can let go of carrying his grief for him. I can smile at strangers and make peace with the fact that she is gone, that he is gone.
I can choose happiness and change. I can choose a life filled with possibility and positivity, laughter and love. I can start living the life she never knew how to live and the life that i hope he someday will. Yes it's sad that she died, it will never not be sad, but this grief CANNOT eclipse my life anymore. Her death and our divorce is so tangled up in my head, like a two for the price of one trauma sale. But i am letting it go.
Our divorce is not my failure. Her death was not my fault. I am only in charge of my own choices.
This is what i choose for myself, right here, right now.
I choose hope.

Times i am really glad that i am no longer married.

1. When i blow dry my hair. My engagement ring used to heat up and burn my finger and now it does not. Because it lives in a drawer.
2. When my ex husband calls me and tells me he is moving in with his sister. Starting to think that perhaps he is a little bit stranger than i may have realised.
3. When i kiss a cute boy on the couch and he runs his fingers through my hair and i think holy fuck, it has been a long time since anyone looked at me like that.
4. When someone at work comes up to me in the kitchen and says "Oh, so you're the art therapist i keep hearing about...." (the fact that i was washing paint brushes in the sink was the give away) and i think "Yeah. I guess I am." Because in all the grief and loss and divorce and misery of the last year and a half, somewhere in the background, i have been working hard to get a new career off the ground. And it happened. And i would not have done it if i had not had the time and space of Not Being Married.

Don't think, just run.

I love running. I really, really LOVE it.

Last night at the gym i ran for ages on the treadmill. Level 8 is like a jog, 9 is fun, 10 is challenging and 11 is where i would like to live if a state of mind was a tangible place. It's the breathlessness, the pain, the rhythm. I really love it. And guess what? My ankle is totally fine. It gets a bit stiff and achy now and then but i don't even care.

In other news, i have made a to do list that is 19 bullet points long. This is all in the spirit of Getting On With My Life and Closing The Door On Past Chapters. Better go get started.

xxxx

One of the problems

I guess one of the main problems is that for me, romantic relationships now come with this overall feeling of responsibility and tongue biting self sacrifice. Relationship. Ugh. Makes me feel cagey and trapped and like i need to step outside of myself to stay sane. Even typing this is encouraging a hot, prickly rash to crawl its way up the back of my neck and making my digestive system clench itself up, inch by inch until my throat's closed over the lump that has been sitting there for a year and a half.
I am 29 years old and I am scared to death of ever letting anyone into my heart again.