Flying Solo – A Spring Break Journey

It’s been about 10 months since “it” ended.  Ten months of adjustment, thinking, being a little angry, being a lot angry, not being angry as often, growing, learning, rediscovery, regaining hope, finding courage…well, you get the idea.  This event, or the course I’ve taken since “it” ended, isn’t anything special or unique – I know that – but it’s been quite a trip for me.  I’ve had great support, sometimes harsh criticism,  but at the end of the day I’ve had a lot of people just wanting me to get to a place where I am happy.  Let’s face it, people can only handle a downer to their party for so long and I had been angry, and a party pooper, for long enough.  Being happy, especially after being so wounded, is easier said than done.  While I would classify myself as a happy person, my mind does have a tendency to run rampant with doubt and fear – something that had grown in me over the last two-three years.  I decided that I don’t want that any more – that no one wants that – so here it was, spring break 2013 and I had to choose: stay home or go.  No companion, no partner, no friends, just me, the road, and a destination.  I chose to go – and it was the best thing I could have done.
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Falling In Love with THE Doctor

For years I didn’t listen to my friends. They would tell me, “you’ll love it if you give it a try,” or “c’mon, just once.” I would sympathize with their addiction, promise to someday try it, and move on to the next topic of conversation.  I would be out and about and see the paraphernalia of the addicted and, yeah, I’ll admit it, be intrigued.  Keep in mind, I was never unaware of the appeal, I just never partook. 
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