When you’ve been with someone for a long time whether married or dating, it’s tough when it is done.
Who are you now?
What happens next?
Will you die alone?
Jeez, I hope not.
Is there hope beyond the brink of death, because to me a divorce or break-up of a long-term relationship is like death.
What happens now?
Where do you go?
Do I join the masses in an online dating blitz? Do I hide away from everyone while I gather my things together?
What is supposed to happen?
I have no idea, but I hope like hell that the next time, I get love. Real long-lasting love.
I didn’t feel loved, and I want to have that.
I want my fairy-tale ending. Bitch, I got the Cinderella dress and tiara.
I’m ready life. Bring me something good.
Sure, I’m sassy. I’m fiesty. I’m dead honest and shrewd. Emotional. Sensitive. Fun. Bubbly. A wee bit wild.
Who wants that?
There has to be an ass for this seat. A slipper for this foot.
A hand for mine.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I am just horrifically unlovable and undesirable.
Maybe I am nothing.
These are the thoughts that run through my head.
Because you all know–all 1,300 of you–that I’m shy.
I want my happy ending. And I want one for him too. I didn’t pick a bad person, I just picked the wrong person for me and me for him.
We deserve to have the dance at the end of the ball.
The prince charming.
The intoxicating, all-enveloping, consistent, present, and wonderful feeling known as love.
Please, don’t let this be it for me.
Lonely in the Garden State.