a.s.f.


the second time around can be deceiving...you always hear people say "oh, my 2nd pregnancy was much easier, buying my first house was stressful...but the 2nd time went much smoother. 2nd cars, pets, marriages (i heard someone at the park the other day reference their first marriage as "the practice one") but in my experience, the "2nd time is easier" sentiment doesn't always fit.
some 2nd times seem a little more emotionally involved than a first plant dying and going to the nursery to buy a new one.
my heart was broken the first time. my heart was broken the 2nd time. although it may hurt for 2 different reasons there is nothing painless about it.
perhaps it just appears easier. like the 2nd time has an edit function. you get to copy what you know from the first time, changing small details to paste into the 2nd round. familiar, right? only sometimes the details don't feel small....they feel big like "take care" which is awkward, cold, and void of intimacy. what is comfortable about having to go through that all again?
there was no preparation, just reaction; an intuitive survival mechanism took over to cover my eroded composure.
his tone was different. a sense of urgency filled my chest. tears of confusion, adrift on my face. it was almost inaudible when he said he would not be rsvp'ing for forever with me; in fact, he didn't even want to try.
the lights went out and a curtain of grace/strength/humility/ fell down over my face. the veil of truth, the mask of pain.
i reached for my belongings as though it was a free for all, fend for yourself, break-up warehouse sale. items that had otherwise been trivial, like shampoo, seemed sentimental and important. things that i remember giving him somehow found themselves in my "heart shopping cart"
there was no rhyme, reason, or logic in my process.
i was grabbing and gasping for air.
when the moment was thru, i fumbled everything to my car and told the plants they were "coming home"
i felt oddly calm upon my departure...as i looked back at someone who at just 8 am was someone i thought i knew.
the calm didn't last long...as i sorted thru my new belongings...nothing seemed to fit; it felt all wrong and looked awful on me. i searched for something comfortable to make sense of the time i invested, the vulnerability i exposed, and the love i offered---nothing fit. not even the 2nd time.
when telling my friend the self destructive thoughts i was having, she said, emilee, it doesn't matter why he left....what matters is that he did...
and i realize, that although nothing seems to fit right now and as much as it hurts to heal, some things don't get a second chance-and most definitely not a third...sometimes, all sales are final.

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