Me? I have a date. Who would have guessed.

I have a date this weekend.

There.  I said it.

A little over a month ago, I would have told you this was impossible and would never in a million years happen.

Something changed.  I changed.  My perspective changed.  I saw things in a different light.

And suddenly?  It felt really stupid to hold on to things so tightly that I was not living.

Ok, enough cryptic crap.  Here it is in english.

This break up?  Is not the first.  Not even close.  In fact?  This isn’t even the first time he’s broken up with me around the holidays.  It’s just his thing I guess.  Whatever.

But in the past?  He has always come back around around Valentine’s Day.  Or The Daytona 500.  So, a part of me,  the hurt, uncomfortable, I don’t want to fucking face dating again, part of me held on to some shred of hope that he would just repeat past behavior.

Now, hold on….. I’m smarter than that.

The realistic part of me stepped back and saw that our relationship?  Wasn’t OUR relationship.  It was his.  He called the shots.  He made the decisions.  He made the rules, and held the hoops for me to jump through.  I went along with it.  He held all the power because?  I gave it to him.

I decided that, well, he made the decision to end our relationship.  That was HIS decision.  That gave me my power back.  And sitting around waiting for him to realize he had kicked Awesome to the curb was sitting around wasting my time and my life.

I deserve to have some fun.

I deserve to go out.

I deserve to be treated like I matter.

I deserve to be with someone who *wants*, honestly wants to be with me.

And so?

I accepted a date.

And?

He wants to be with me.

He wants to treat me like I matter.

He wants to know me.  Really know me.

And it is a horse of a different color for me.  It is something I am not even remotely used to.  It throws me off guard, off balance.

But I’ll work through that.

Because?

I have a date.