OK, I admit I got on the computer a little bit during the time I said I was taking some time off, but if I don't write down the thoughts that are in my head, they swirl around in there, multiply, repeat, and keep me awake at night. So, if I wanted a decent night's sleep, I had to get on the computer...
Anyway, LOVE. When it comes to relationships, I am slow to love, but love strong and forever. I picture it like this - I grow these little roots. With Matt, my roots started out short but strong.
I don't fall for a guy based on looks alone. I could see some devastatingly handsome man, and he looks like any other man to me until I get to know him. There are a lot of good-looking assholes out there, and fortunately, that's something I've known my whole life. Take an average Joe, add a great personality with a big heart, great sense of humor, brains and determination, and he could look pretty damn hot to me.
As handsome as Matt was, I didn't feel "love at first sight." Of course, he did have that mullet... (Had to say it, My Love!) In fact, without intending to, I gave him a pretty tough time at first. I picked him apart in my head, finding any reason I could to not take it any further (like I did with any man I got involved with. It's just how I am). I'm not one of those women who think that she can turn a man into what she wants, or fix his faults. As hard as I tried, I couldn't find anything "wrong" enough to warrant ending the relationship, and so my doubts disappeared and my roots continued to grow. Thick and strong and miles long. Plus, he got hotter as he got older. Over time, my roots wrapped themselves around Matt's and his around mine. They ended up so intertwined that they became like one root system. When he died, a big part of me died with him, and another part wished I had.
Before Matt, I was lonely, but accepted it. I didn't have a root system, so I guess I didn't even know what I was missing until he came along. Now, the section of my root system that was intertwined with his is just dangling there, atrophying. Losing Matt has changed me forever.
HOPE. I don't think I'm content any longer with being alone like I was before Matt. I don't want that section of my roots to atrophy and wither away. While I have never been the type of person to settle, that will not change. I would still rather be alone than with the wrong person. However, it might not be fair to me or another man to expect that we could have the same kind of love for each other that Matt and I had. I can't imagine that anyone would be quite the fit that he was for me, but from what I've seen from others who have gone through this journey, anything is possible. Right? Give me some hope here, people.
DREAMS. I had a dream about Matt last night - the first one in a long time (at least that I can remember). Apparently, he had been working for the government on some secret mission and that part of his job was finally over, so he was able to come back to me. He said to me, "I didn't know you wanted to move west!"
I was then trying to figure out why I moved without him. Then I felt guilty, like I cheated on him, and I was trying to figure out why I would do that if he was still alive. It didn't occur to me in my dream that I shouldn't feel guilty, because he was dead when I did these things without him.
In the dream, the kids and I were living somewhere in the midwest, and when Matt said he wanted to relocate with me, we were looking for somewhere further west. He had to talk to one of the bosses about getting a job transfer so we could relocate. We were on this ship or something, full of government people and their families. They even had little shops where you could by food, but it was mostly dried food.
I ended up running into someone he worked with that would have an answer to my question about moving. She said he was eligible for relocation, but if we wanted to do that, we had to move quick - in only two and a half months. I was so excited at the prospect of moving somewhere with Matt in only two and a half months!! With Matt! God I love these dreams.
Two and a half months... a little more than half of the time that it took me from the time I made the decision to move to California, to actually moving. I made the decision in a matter of weeks, and then four months after I made the decision, I found a house and was living in it. Pretty crazy, but it must have been meant to be. It felt almost like some force was pushing me out here. I knew if I didn't act on it when I did, then there was a chance I would end up chickening out and not going through with it. There were hardly any obstacles; things just seemed to fall into place. When something is meant to be, I guess it can just happen like that.