Identity

He's struggling because so much of him became me and what I wanted in the year plus that we were seeing each other. And it did. He followed my lead. And that became our undoing. I want an equal so badly. I want someone who's as strong and willful and inquisitive as me. Yet...

So much of me came to rely on him to bolster me. So much of me loved the way he loved me. Who would not want to hear, "Girl, in the mornings you glow. You are more beautiful than at any other time"? I bought so many new clothes to wear for him, pretty clothes, sexy clothes, clothes to please him. They worked, but at the end of the day, his favorite was my old, gray, two-sizes-too-big sweatshirt.

Last night, my first night out dancing since our split, I refused to wear the low-cut stuff. My heart wasn't in it. Instead, I wore what he would have liked. My hip-riser pants and a shirt that clung to me but covered enough to enter a convent. A pretty PrAna shirt, my smile, and my energy. I wanted to be me. Because he likes me. And any man worth his salt is gonna have to like me with my no-makeup, brown-graying curly hair self.

So. He's trying. He's thinking. He's reflecting. He's missing.. and he's breaking my no-contact rule to show me all this. But he's getting it. He's hitting the nail on the head as to why we didn't work. He's getting me.

I? I have been writing in this blog, chasing down my friends, and traveling far and wide to replace his spot in my life. Comes right down to... I miss him too. But. Would it work? Is he The One? I want the One. I am ready for the One. I won't settle for anything but the One. I'm at a point where I don't need to settle. I always have been. I am torn. What is my identity? What is his? Are we a we -- or not?