I made it. One year since he died. Life, did what it does, it went on. I feel like I should be more reflective. Lord knows I was a mess on the actual day. Like a dummy, I scheduled myself to do a CPR training at work on the anniversary. I left the room crying, explained to my trainer why I couldn't possibly stomach talking about heart attacks on that day. He let me go and agreed to reschedule for next month.
I've been sort of in "fuck you" mode lately. I ran into a guy that managed to stop talking to me TWICE when he got married to different women. Wasn't my dude or anything, just a good friend. He tried to hit me up recently. I curbed his ass and blocked him. Things went well with Steve, and then he admitted to me that the whole time we were dating he was torn between me and his ex. I put his ass on ice and blocked him. I suspected that my former stalker was trying to go through someone else's page to see what I'm up to. Blocked bitch.
My life is no longer about keeping up frivolous relationships and friendships. I'm possibly going to lose someone I really adored over some foul shit she did. And how do I feel about it? BYE. The time of reflection after he passed showed me where I was fucking up. The people around me were more quantity than quality. I'm okay with my own presence. I'm funny. Fun. Smart. And all around an amazing individual. I see now that there is nothing wrong with blocking out people who just don't serve me, especially when I've always served them. Yep. I finally get it.
