The Recovery

I’ve made a full recovery over Puddy. Not sure if I did this in the healthiest way but I’ve decided whatever gets you through it is the way to go.

I started the break-up process by sitting around alone feeling sorry for myself. I’ve seen others suffer through this and based on their progress I was looking forward to the weight loss aspect of depression. I figured I’d come out of my funk Puddy free and ten pounds lighter. Not so much. Most likely due to the trough of Australian red licorice I polished off while avoiding human contact. After a pride swallowing conversation with Puddy I decided that my own pity party wasn’t working as well as I had hoped. This experience has been nothing more than a blow to my ego so the “This little piggy ate her weight in red wax” wasn’t helping. I put away the Kookaburra and did the next best thing. I opened the fun box for everyone that really shouldn’t be allowed to play.

Square Pants and I have planned to meet out on more than one occasion in the last few months but for some reason I never let it happen. I don’t call him or I don’t have the energy to head where he’s located. This time he happened to be close to my neighborhood so I had no excuse. Nobody is better than my group of friends but I had fun socializing with his. They especially enjoyed our “let’s make the office rumors true” joke. Turns out Square Pants wasn’t joking. We slept on the possibility and we’ll see how it goes.

OMR and I met up for a drink. It was an impromptu meeting where I listened to him express how glad he was to learn I wasn’t a cold hearted bitch and had the capacity to love. How sweet. He then described everything I deserve, everything he can give, and everything he wants. Not a bad list, especially when he said, “I’m rich, let me take care of you.” Given our history, I know 90% of what he says is make-believe. Do I surrender to the fantasy? I suppose I could if he calls again. Never a certainty with him. When he asked what I wanted I pulled Puddy’s, “I don’t know.” I explained that I wasn’t emotionally prepared. OMR offered to pay for therapy if I was with him. Almost makes me wonder what he would have suggested if I said I wasn’t financially secure for a relationship. Would rent be added to the package?

Within this week of rejuvenation, I also scraped the bottom and called Blaze. He lives in California and we stopped talking all together 10 months ago upon my request because I had had enough of his bullshit. Compared to Puddy, his grief was nothing. I’ve ignored his attempts to contact me since so I was slightly worried he wouldn’t talk to me. More concerned if this possible refusal would help or hinder my fabulous recovery. Happy to report, the friendship picked up right where it left off. He asked what was wrong the second I said hello. I shared the Puddy story. He was silent for a few seconds and then started laughing, “What the fuck are you doing with a hippy living in New Hampshire?” I started laughing as well. It really is funny. Blaze is on his way to New York to help me celebrate the presence and completion of monogamy. He wanted to know what happened to the girl who only cares about which man is funding her good time. Good question…

She’s back.