Promises and frustration

These past few weeks have been full of things being dangled in front of me and then… well… I don’t know. Not even pulled away but just not materializing. Not that they’re not there, there is just no forward movement. Just limbo.

One thing did end up coming to a halt and I am disappointed but, in the long run, it’s probably for the best. I can now concentrate on the things that are very important to me and not spend time trying to coddle someone through something that they are not ready for.

But the lab at the Ark was basically put on the back burner and I was completely indecisive about whether to go forward or not on it due to frustrating circumstances of lack of commitment on the part of one particular person and then just not being able to finalize a cast. Not completely done but not moving forward.

Then… well… men. Just don’t get them. Cute Guy appeared again last night, never leaving my side, sending enormous signals, very warm and fuzzy feelings. Then left at the end of the night with “see ya next week.” And OOMA suddenly hovering around the edges whenever Cute Guy is around but withdrawing a bit when Cute Guy is not around. Not completely done but not moving forward.

Then an opportunity with my side business came up over the weekend. I’ve contacted the person about this possibility, which would solve a number of my financial problems, but have not heard back from her. Not completely done but not moving forward.

Been dealing a great deal with my feelings about my ex. That seems to be the only place I can move forward, is really acknowledging how damaged I felt in the last few years of our relationship. I find it easier to talk about rather than give a polite answer to protect him. From what I’ve heard, he’s still the same, still doing the same thing, still being the same person he was that I left. So I don’t necessarily need to be polite as he continues to demonstrate why I needed to leave him. Yet, occasionally, at times like this particularly when I am stuck in limbo, I have fleeting thoughts of wondering if I should have stayed, should have tried harder to work it out, should have given it another month or two or six because, after 16 years of being together, didn’t we deserve more than a year? That thought doesn’t last very long, particularly when I do look at all that I have gained in the past year, but it still does surface.

I just feel a bit like I’m being tossed around on the ocean, seeking some land to sink my feet into, even a sand bar at this point. I can see a faint horizon line in the distance and something that looks like land but I can’t quite get there.

I guess I’ll cling on to the small life raft I have fashioned and paddle like hell and hope that I can reach shore before I capsize.