Rock of Gibraltar

There have been no meltdowns or breakdowns…I am very happy to report that. I mailed off the package to PC…yes, perfumed (with Elizabeth Arden’s Untold) “dirty” lacy black thongs included (may as well have fun with the last hurrah, right?) and included a letter also. I just sat down and began typing and let it all out: the caring, the hurt, the anger, the disbelief…I purged and I feel better. Not lighter, not happy and not even relieved… but better. The letter to PC was nowhere on par with a missive to Him (far less venom and practically no curse words), but the man will definitely get the point. IF he reads it, and it is fine if he doesn’t…hell, he never has to open the package. Frankly, if my intuition is correct, I have that package being back on my doorstep unopened with a huge RETURN TO SENDER sign plastered across it …and that is okay too. This is not about being right or being recognized…it is about clearing and closure and I did what I felt I needed to do to close the door, heal and move on.

I have had another orgasm (I am on a roll and riding the wave) …stronger and harder…so I have hope that if I cannot eliminate the stress of life and love, I can at least still release it. And I had a date via the ads…well, an almost date. Dude showed up…slightly intoxicated. He wanted to break the ice first with conversation and that’s fine…in fact, I encourage that as it is not so impersonal that way. Although given the way this worked out with AFO and PC, I may want to be a cash register on feet except with less personality. In any case, dude spilled his guts and his emotional mess made me wonder what the hell is my problem…hell, I am FINE. For real. He said I was beautiful (red flag) and that he needed a woman like me in his life (the train gate has closed and the train is barreling down the tracks). He wanted this to be the start of a relationship between us…we could be each other’s support, person and have a happily ever after and never be lonely again. Then he wanted to spend the night. That is when I put him out of my house and turned on ID Channel to take more notes.

As I struggle to rise above this messy, messy situation and let my hurt heal, I find myself missing and wanting one Panel member above all others. If you have been reading my love letters, you know that each friend provides something for me: Chef is laughter, Artsy Craftsy is the cheerleading squad, Morning Person is the drive and ambition, UTA is comfort, Oscar is random, Cuz is wisdom…and now I need strength. Girlfriend is my strength. I am nowhere near healed at all, my trust issues are in urgent care and crazy and hope are talking in their sleep. I am ready to take my men the way I take my coffee…and I do not drink coffee. I need to be supported, propped up and let someone else fight the battle for a minute…and Girlfriend does that for me. So without further ado, here is my love letter to my most special Chica. Check back soon for more posts, love letters and potential updates…on what, I have no idea. A always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!

My Dearest, Dearest Girlfriend:

Ten years you have been a part of my life…my dinner partner, my movie partner, my Date Night, the one who drinks my alcohol for me when the situation is just too stressful. You have been there for every personal and professional up and down. You are the one who led the Mass for Prayers for Snow at the Island, the one who started the McDreamy, McSteamy and McHottie craze, the one who helped us almost garner bereavement leave when Meredith Grey “died” and you are the one who happily has a drink for me..and even lets me pick the drink.

You are beautiful, sweet, adventurous, intelligent and oh, so funny along with being sexy, calm, peaceful and strong. I am not sure which amazes me more: your strength or the inner peace you manage to maintain even when your life is topsy turvy. We have shared our many relationships, sexual adventures and heartaches together…you were there when Married Man’s wife was calling the Island, you were there for the entire Him fiasco, you warned me not to mess with AFO because he was Air Force and not USMC and with PC/CP…you shared my happiness and offered to kick his ass when he fell from grace. When I could not find a job if they were handing them out on street corners, you offered to treat me to nights out to refresh my perspective. And through all of it, you were the one who both told me and showed me that as wrong and unfair things turn out, that some things will never be made right….and dwelling on them will never make it fair or right but only make them more wrong.

What I both admire and envy about you (aside from your incredible beauty) is the way you embrace life with arms wide open….you never let your fall downs or setbacks keep you down or keep you from being open to the possibilities. You view everything as a chance to start over, start fresh and start just a little wiser. Not saying you do not get hurt, saddened or disappointed because you do, but your strength keeps you like a weeble-wobble (you may be too young to remember them)…they had a slogan/jingle :”weebles wobble but they don’t fall down.” And not only do you not fall down, you keep me from falling down also.

You have introduced me to Thai food, the absurdity of horror movies and shown me that age is merely a number and reminded me that sexiness is not limited to a certain age group. Through you, I have learned that my age, race, height, weight…all things I thought were deterrents or reasons for the crazy and stupid I attract matter not…men could have Trust Fund Barbie and still not be satisfied. And that is on them, not us. You embody self-love and inspire me that one day, I will walk away from impossible situations and survive a broken heart without having to go crazy and vengeful and obsessive to do so. And until then, knowing I have you to lean on and draw strength from makes me feel safe, hopeful and not alone.

I love you, Chica and here’s to another decade together…thank you for being my friend, my person and my rock.


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