Picking up.

Okay, I guess I'm ready to break my blog silence.

It has been almost two weeks since the break-up, and I will not lie, I still find it a struggle. I suppose a little background would be nice, yes?

The short version is he is older than I am, has two children, does not want more. I am 23, with a maternal instinct that could overturn cars, and a biological clock ticking loud enough to be heard in neighboring counties. I was born to be a mother. I just was. One of my favorite compliments, and I've received it often, is "You are going to be a GREAT mom." I hope so.

A side note, though, on how much I care about this man: The day before we ended it, I walked to the park by his place and sat there, ever so creepily, watching the kids play on the playground. Watching them run, climb, fall, get back up. Hearing them laugh and hearing them scream. And for the first time, the thought entered my head, "Could I live without this?" And the answer, as it had been all along, was a very clear and resounding "FUCK NO." But I thought about it, for him.

And that was one of my first tastes of a parent's kind of love. I stood up and walked away from someone who means so much to me for my babies, my children, that I haven't even met yet. They do not even exist and I love them, so much. Granted, I have still kicked and screamed a bit, hoping he will change his mind, but the nagging feeling there is that one, he won't, and two, why force him? He was right. I want the whole nine yards if I can have it. I want that man who loves me, who is apprehensive, nervous, excited, and terrified to be standing there next to me in the delivery room. I want him to kiss my forehead and look at our child, seeing for the first time what a miracle we created, together. I want to share with someone the newness of every moment with my children, and I want us to suffer through every sleepless night together. Deep down I want that and always have. Deep down I deserve that. And I look forward to that, every day.

Still, I miss him. I miss our friendship most, immediately followed by everything else. But he gave me an invaluable gift, and that is the realization that I am not damaged goods, worthy of only scraps of affection. I am deserving of so much more, and can and will have it again. He showed me that, and not a moment too soon. I think in time, our friendship will stay intact. There was and is so much good there, and he remains an incredible person. It is no wonder why I am just that lonely without him now and a big part of me STILL wants to beg him to reconsider. But I was lucky to just to have him, and am still blessed just to know him. Better in time, they say, right?