This weekend I went to the dreaded wedding.
He had also been invited, as my partner, and a couple of weeks ago I had to tell the bride about the break up, and that I would be attending alone. “Sit me with some cute single guys,” I said, and then thought better. “No, no, just sit me with my friends.”
Well, she did both.
Sitting next to me was the reception musician, a friend of the bride’s sister. He was smart, talented, sweet, and sexy. I was gone. We spoke for hours, and I shared way too much. We danced, we exchanged numbers, and we kissed. We promised to see each other again. And though it took all my willpower, I went back to my hotel alone.
So, my plan to avoid any romantic involvement has, not failed, but changed. The plan is now to avoid attachment. Attachment to him, and to the situation, actual or hoped for. To be with someone and not lose myself. To not hope that he will save me. And to keep focussed on my recovery as my first priority.
Maybe I will see him again, maybe I won’t. At this stage, I’m working on being fine with either outcome. If this weekend turns out to be the only one we will share, then thank you, musician, for the great night, and for helping me start to heal my broken heart.
And if I see you again…
I will take it one day at a time.