9.30 AM

9.30 am and I am drunk. No, not the cute giggling mimosa drunk that somehow still look pretty. It's the "Speeding in inhumanely speed through my board game and grope you in between" drunk. 

(I wonder if my Twilight Imperium board game group will allow me to play in such manner. Pro: I might win. Con: their gfs might not be thrilled. I mean, I am an equal opportunity groper I mean lover. They are welcome to join.)

It's one of those days where I want to drag my ex-bf by the collar and tell him, "Listen a-hole. You would have to spend this lifetime's worth of good karma and more just to find someone remotely like me. With all the loving and loyalty I could give, with all the passion and excitement that I offered."

" You would be extremely lucky to find someone who love you enough to trade a life of glitz and glamour in downtown LA, strolling around at the operas and dance venues, and choose to be utterly invisible as your Stepford wife."

But none of this matter. None. To a person, you only worth as much as they are willing to see your worth. You can't change any of that. You could be the most amazing person ever and someone will still think you are sh-t.

I can't force him to see my worth. No matter how much mimosa I drank, nothing will change. I know I need to let it go, and I will. It gets easier by the day. I understand that it wasn't meant to be. I have accepted that I need to reset my life and start anew.

But sometimes I just need to get drunk at 9.30 in the morning. Because losing his love wasn't easy, even when I knew the condition was not healthy for me. Because I miss him so damn much. Because even in the death of our relationship I am still not willing to let him go.

I promise you I will be fine. It's like dancing. One step backwards so you can take two step forward. I will be fine. 

Accepting grief is self-healing. Soon all these negative talks will recede, displaced by fun flirty pictures and my usual weird yet (thought) provoking posts. It's ok to be sad. It's being generous to myself. It's not weak. I want to believe this. I have to believe this.

It's ok to be confined in this quicksand for a bit. It's giving myself a time to heal and to get better. It prepares me to say goodbye in a healthy way. It's ok to not be ok.

I love you babe. I really do. You are my moon and stars. I would have raised dragons for you, even if it means burning myself to cinders. But it's time to say goodbye. It's time for me to be me. I love you, precious. I really do.