The Reluctant Lonestar

Interweb, it’s been a minute. The last couple of weeks I have found myself both in dark bouts of depression and in the throws of extreme elation. Unfortunately, all at the whims of my (ex)partner.

The thing about not knowing where you stand is that you become some kind of otherworldly thing basking in different realities. Its not poetic. Its true. And it is sad. I thrive in knowing the next step, knowing where I am going. Y’all, that’s my shit! Sigh.


A Series: The Reluctant Lonestar

**Awkwardly kicks rocks** Morning! I took my girls to dance this morning, and once it was over. My partner came over to pick them up. I sadly grabbed their things from the car. I helped tuck them into their carseats. I said goodbye to my babies. My partner then kissed me goodbye and asked me to lunch. Sigh. I then walked to my car, put the key into the ignition and began analyzing the entire scene:

“Lika, the kiss! The kiss was so different! It was passionate! It was loving! It was different.”

“Oh my God, girl! He wants to see you later… Shoot, what are you going to wear??”

“But what if he says he wants to have lunch and then doesn’t…”

So I felt a myriad of things – most of which were probably silly as hell. You must understand that I too often see myself from the outside looking in. I am well aware of the things I should feel, and the responses I need to make in reaction to said feelings. And yet… I, too often, am in direct opposition of it all…

So yes, hope was sparked deep inside of my soul (Stupid.) – fuck history and experience! Despite this hope, I began preparing myself for the absolute worst. The let down. The hurt feelings. You get it.

Immediately afterwards, I started playing this Apple created playlist, titled “Broadly”. Girl… The playlist starts off first with Flawless. I took a deep breath and *temporarily* closed my eyes… I was at church. Sigh. Also, it helped that I was wearing a pair of leggings that I felt absolutely bomb in.


A Series: The Reluctant Lonestar

Good evening interweb! I am writing and exposing my cliched pain out into the ether. Perhaps you will commiserate with me. Perhaps you may provide some of your fermented wisdom. Perhaps you will join me and shout, “fuck it all!”. Either way, I am here for it.

Tonight I decided that I will blog my journey as I venture into the unknown of becoming a divorced, single, mom. Now, at the moment I am separated from my partner – unwillingly so (wah, was, I still love him!) and I am not sure what the future holds all I know is… I am depressed. Confused. Pissed. Relieved. Hurt. Girl (or boy, or non conforming), you name it!

So alas, shall I begin…

Today, marks day one of my technically being a single mom. I am home ALONE. I had to feed my girls, ALONE. I had to get my girls to bed, ALONE. I had to make sure MY home was safe before I dared to have a moment to myself, ALONE. I had to spread myself precariously thin as I divided my attention between my four-year old and my seven-month old. Sigh, I am spent. Frankly, it was all a bit overwhelming and I find myself somewhat numb. I’ve done all of the above by myself before, many a time (too many in fact), and yet… Something was different.