Somestimes it only takes a moment

Sometimes it only takes a moment to remember… and all the memories come flooding back. This morning it happened unexpectedly. I came off a great week and a really fun night with my girls and Mr. My Harry. And after shots, jager bombs and pitchers of beer I was able to really toast out the stress of last week and really just breathe again. I was starting to feel human again this week. Really the first time I’ve felt like this in months. Just felt like the old Hardt again. Something about just letting go that really just feels amazing. And sure I wasn’t totally good this weekend about staying out of touch with the trifecta. I did send Mr. FB a message (or two…) and did wish Mr. Uni a Happy Birthday (but those of you that know me and birthdays know that someone could be my mortal enemy and I will still show up with a singing telegram on their big day!)… And yes I did have a minor setback last night a couple of beers in while practically snuggled up against Mr. My Harry (it was a tiny booth) where I did look at him (and his wicked grin) and had to remind myself why were weren’t together. But I was able to pull together the hormones, because we all know I can’t go down that path again… and I have to say I was pretty proud of myself for resisting. Maybe I will be able to make it these next 2 months after all! And then this morning I was hit out of the blue with memories. And my heart literally dropped. And I know it’s going to take me time before it stops hurting. And I know that every day it gets better. Every day I think about him less. Every day my heart heals a bit more… and I know one day I’m going to wake up and realize I’ve gone a whole day without thinking about him… but then I will have days like today when the memory is so strong it and it just hurts so bad it’s like my heart is breaking all over again. And maybe it might just be because I’m exhausted. And it might just be my 4 days hangover I’m on. And all the booze trying to get out of my body through all my pores. I mean I look like I’ve been on a non-stop bender. I’ve got the bags. The haggard skin. The bloated belly… Like Mr. Green Sr. said to me today- Are you trying to kill yourself before you turn 30… so maybe I need to slow down the drinking. But it helps. Doesn’t help me from making drunken text messages… but all the drinking this weekend did help me not think about him. And her. And really that’s all that I’m looking for. Though from now on I think maybe I will turn to the gym instead of that bottle of booze, because if at the end of these 60 days I’m going to need to be in prime form and not look like a mix between a cougar and a frat boy. Because no one wants to have sex with a Buddha belly!