Without

Went for Sirens again with E, toted a couple of friends along. In spite of how far I've come along, it still feels so weird going without Kel, even though there's no way in hell I'd want him there now. In fact, the last times I went for Sirens without him after the breakup, I went with mortal dread of bumping into him, though I'm almost sure he wouldn't be going anywhere near where he thinks I might be. Avoidance has always been his thing.

Well, actually, I go just about everywhere in mortal dread of bumping into him. I've already bumped into helluva lot of people who mutually know us. In this cramp little island and the sheer number of people who know us both, what are the chances of steering clear of each others' paths completely?

But the odd thing is, I've only chanced upon an ex-boyfriend only twice ever (and one time was not entirely by chance, since we both had to be at the same function, and it was the same man). I've never ever accidentily bumped into any other ex-es or quasi-ex-es or even the flings. So there's hope, I guess.

It's been two and a half months since we split up. It's been almost two months since I fell completely out of love with him. Amazing. Four years in love and it took less than a month to drop out of it, albeit involuntarily. But to stay out of love - that takes choice and will (remember this, those of you out there who need to; you know who you are). I think maybe I've had too much practice with dealing with heartbreak and have become pragmatic with my heart.

Having control over your heart and emotional reactions to things - so much of a good thing and an undesirable thing at the same time. But at least I have a good amount of it right now. Control over yourself is always good.

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One unexpected night very recently, I suddenly found myself feeling loved without loving or being loved, feeling cared for without caring or being cared for. And this felt strangely liberating, if only a little. All this without needing to have a man to love. And how ironic to experience all this with an (almost) unexpected party and not with the one I loved during our last times together.

Maybe it's just that I'd gone too long without (more than one thing). And I'm not just referring to the past two months.

One night of pure frivolity can turn out to do so much more than just satisfy a raging itch. [Random: this reminds me of an episode of Frasier (yes, again) when Niles ended up in bed with Lilith and they wake up in distress over what they'd done. But in the end, they realised how much good that one sexual encounter did for each other for various reasons.]

Think I'm starting to get the hang of not loving any man. Each time this happens, it's liberating and bitter at the same time. But at least the void is starting to fill with more than just phantoms.

Wow. I'm doing just fine without him/us even though the hate is probably here to stay.