Enough Said

I haven’t been able to write for the past week because my brain wouldn’t let me. Even now, I have to push myself to write since I’m still slightly frozen from the fear that I am going to begin admitting truths to myself I still don’t feel comfortable admitting.

My second date with Jim went nicely. I like him. He’s a nice man. I find myself thinking about him quite a bit and I find myself wanting him to like me back, which is strange because I feel as though that desire is coming from my head and not so much from my heart. I feel as though I have made a conscious decision for our relationship to grow. He’s nice. I like him. We seem compatible. It all makes sense. The part that gets cloudy for me is when I wonder if I am closing off my heart’s emotions and telling myself that my head says we’re a good match. Have I closed my heart because of the fear I have of losing somebody close to me? I don’t know the answer.

Jim is a complete gentleman. He pulls out my chair for me and helps me get into my coat. He hasn’t walked me to my car, yet, on either date we have been on and I wonder if he’s feeling awkward about kissing me. If that’s the case, I find that aspect of him quirky and endearing.

After our date, when I was walking to my car, I felt a surge of panic begin to erupt from within me. I immediately dialed Carol’s number and to my utter joy, she answered the phone. She said she had been standing by for me, which made my heart swell.

I talked with her through my affection toward Jim until I felt as though I had permission from the universe to feel my attraction. When I arrived home, my mind took me on a scary journey on which I realized that someday I will be doing all of the things I did with Chris with somebody else. My body jerked with panic, suctioning the air from my lungs and I began to cry from my realization and from yet another funeral in honor of my lost love.

In other news, the boxing gym continues to batter me to a pulp, which is exactly my favorite kind of workout, even if the aftermath is nothing short of excruciating. I worked out Saturday afternoon and I still cannot walk up or down stairs without supporting my weight with my arms. Now I know what happens when I perform two minutes each of jump squats, front and back lunges, side lunges and sitting squats. It ain’t pretty, yet I am already hungering for the next workout. I need to know, by human experimentation, if this drill is going to get easier with practice.

When I awoke Sunday morning, I, quite literally, rolled out of bed (I couldn’t use my legs to lift myself out of bed), shuffled gingerly into the kitchen and composed an e-mail to the gym which read,

Ouch.
Sincerely, Robin Burrage

I received a reply which read,

That means it’s working.

Enough said.