Considering the emotional roller coaster of yesterday and the kind of garbage thrown my way... it's almost a surprise that thinking about it doesn't bring the stomach rolling, gut clench of tension that usually accompanies flaming crap. Had my moment of anger earlier after the lamest, rationalized (non)apology I've heard since C lived here but then... it was gone.
Letting go is like that. Sometimes it takes more than one good cry... or a good verbal rant like the one I dumped on Charlie today... sometimes it takes months or even years of going back and reminding myself I am not the labels others try to pin to my flesh.
It's almost a gift that today the business of living and the extra joy of Becka's 3D ultrasound weren't marred because I couldn't ignore words worth ignoring.
Time was, such things would roll around in my head for ages. The battle to convince myself of the truth could be so consuming, I'd miss out on living. I even predicted as much to the person whose words hit cruelly below the belt yesterday. Yet... nothing.
It's new... the silence of the condemning voice.
I could get used to this.