Episode 3 -- Move In Day Premonition

My moving day started with a friend bringing me coffee and talking bellydance while I tried not to panic about the movers being late.  It ended with the guy I just started dating coming over with a bottle of wine and taking me out to dinner.  In between, other than the movers, I was on my own.

Once they got to my old place and started carrying everything out, everything collapsed into a blurry montage.  (Theme song, "Titanium.")  After the movers left and before the new guy came over, I had a few hours to myself.  I used up all my remaining adrenaline unpacking a few boxes, then finally paused to lean against my new kitchen counter and drink a glass of water.

I have made a huge mistake.

I shook my head and took a few deep breaths.  I looked out the window at the trees in the courtyard.  I walked out onto my balcony and thought about drinking coffee there in the morning.  But, when I walked back into the unit --

This is a mistake.  This will not end well.

I'm Supposed to Be Done with All This

Before I drove to my hometown for the weekend, I have a text message exchange with a dear friend. We were talking about visiting the places where we grew up, the oddness of it.  I talked about that parallel worlds feeling I always get when I go back to the hometown.  The feeling of --what would have happened if I had never left?   When everything was new and broken, I went back to that parallel worlds place with extreme longing, wanting to find a way to launch myself into that world where I never would have taken the path that ultimately led to this hurt. 

Eventually, though, happiness emerged and I became more and more grateful for the world I am in.  Hurt and all, it has led to some significant changes and cherished friendships.  So I drove home, still peeking at that parallel world, no desire to dive into it.  

For the holiday, we went to see an outdoor symphony concert.  Beautiful music, beautiful setting, and time with family.  I looked forward to it.  Why then, somewhere between the concertmaster walking out and the beginning of the first piece, did I find it so hard to breathe?  Why was I on the verge of tears for most of the concert?  And what was up with the long moment in the bathroom at intermission, breathing deeply into my hands to calm down?  

Radiation recall.  That's what was up.  Symphonies, operas, all things classical music -- that is the Ex's world.  I hadn't been to anything like that since we split up.  And there I was, looking into another parallel world -- the one where nothing changed, and I still listened to backstage symphony stories and scheduled life around the concert season.  Radiation recall made me vulnerable, wanting again to sink into the comfort of an imaginary parallel world.  

Fortunately, although time doesn't completely remove the weakened places, it does teach you how to heal faster.  A little breathing, a little music, a little grounding in the present moment -- and I was able to let the parallel world go and appreciate my fortunate now.  I'm back again to the place where my friend and I left our text message conversation:  

Me: Amazing, isn't it? I always get that parallel worlds feeling when I go back. Like -- what would I be like if I had stayed? I'm glad I didn't.

Friend: Yah me too. Glad I did not and glad you did not too.