I’m new here, to this space, and I’m still figuring out what I want it to feel like. Mostly, I want to write about travel adventures and my National Park experiences, partly because I want to remember them and also because I want to share them with anyone who might find them useful. But I’m also a person with a whole bunch of feelings and it just wouldn’t be my space if I didn’t take some time to dump my feelings out on the internet every now and then.
So that’s what this is. A feelings dump and a life update.
STUPID HEART STUFF
I’m having a lot of feelings lately about how stupid hearts are, about how they’re terrible judges of logic or, really, anything at all. This is probably because I’m three weeks into a break-up, an inevitable and mostly necessary one, but still. Breaking up is hard to do, no matter how inevitable it was, no matter how necessary, or how amicable. Surprising or not, friendly or otherwise, breaking up fucking sucks.
If I tallied up my grief stages into a pie chart, it’d be almost completley fire-engine red with rage. There’s some blueberry bits of sadness, and maybe some peachy acceptance slivers and one tiny hint of bargaining and a little piece of denial. Mostly though, it’s anger.
I’m not just mad at him, I’m mad at me too. Chances are, he’s pretty great. He’s just not great for me. But still, I’m mad. I’m mad at him for leaving, for the start and the end, for the weight he placed on my heart and the limits he placed on my life and I’m mad at me because I let him.
I have a lot of questions, too, most of which start with, why couldn’t you just?
It’s the right thing, this break-up. We are not, in our current state, compatible. I know that and understand that. But I still miss him.
In order to occupy my mind, I’ve been trying to mush in as many adventures as possible in between my very busy summer work schedule. It’s mayhem, but after being away from Richmond for a year, coming back and experiencing it is really nice.
I went to Belle Isle, an island in the middle of the James River where people go on hot days to laze about on rocks and splash around in the water. My two-year nephew and his mom went too, and we slipped on rocks and said hello to doggies and played in the river before the summer heat made us go get frozen yogurt.
I also went to the Hanover Tomato Festival. I’ve wanted to go for a long time, and this year I finally made it.
It was huge, way bigger than I was expecting. I had a BLT with fried green tomatoes and there was a petting zoo with chickens, bunnies, a donkey, a pig, some goats and a goose. There were rides and vendors, too, but mostly, I just wanted to eat tomatoes and pet the bunnies.
I bought a big bag of tomatoes and that’s basically all I’ve been eating for the past ten days. BLTs are my favorite, so it’s a problem I’m glad to have.
Summers in Virginia are hot and humid, and yet, I signed up for a half marathon at the end of August, because I love pain and suffering, apparently.
I won’t lie. Some of my runs have been absolutely miserable. I keep trying to get out of bed early for my Sunday long runs, but the struggle is real and I’m lucky if my feet hit the pavement by 7:30 a.m.
One good thing about summer running is it allows me to be nice to myself. I’m not going to be fast. I’m not going to break any records. Summer running, for me, is about listening to what my body is telling me then just enjoying the run. I haven’t even run with a watch this training cycle and have just used one of my running apps to tell me when I hit each mile. I don’t want to know the time, I don’t want to know if I’m speeding or crawling, I just want to run, based on feel alone, without the pressure of the watch.
I met this dude at work last week. He looked like a rock, so well was he blended into the concrete. I scooped him up with the cover of my book and he hopped onto my leg and held on as I walked him over to the grass. He immediately went to work changing color to blend in with his new environs.
I’m pretty sure he’s a gray tree frog, but I don’t think I’ve seen a frog that looked like him before. The internet says they don’t usually come down from treetops, except for breeding. Mostly I just like it when nature shows up and decides to say hello.