And I hit a break-up milestone...

So, it's been a little over a week since I've mentioned J, and as you can see, I have not been blogging about him nearly as much as I was in 2008. I don't want you to think that he is no longer on my mind, when, in fact, thoughts of him and us linger on the edge of consciousness...all the time. Usually his name flashes just behind my eyes, in the space of my mind that is only filled when running, working out, in meetings at work and reading. He is still there, still renting real estate in my hippocampus (the part of the brain responsible for memory). Luckily he's downgraded from an unsightly mansion the size of Bill Gates' estate to a 20-something's Manhattan apartment. My thoughts of him rarely elicit the response they did months ago, a flash of heat and gage reflex. Yet, still, sometimes I feel a flush hiding just beneath my skin; it takes a few minutes of deep breathing and ab contractions (to focus my thoughts on something physical) to push the heat and panic back into my heart.

This morning, months after stupid J broke my heart, I hit a milestone in the worst break-up in my history. I was on the 5 train on my way to work. I looked down, and the guy standing next to me was wearing brown shoes with an outfit that would have been better served by black shoes. When we were in love, J didn't have black dress shoes, only these brownish, orange, wingtipish shoes. And I smiled. I smiled when I thought of his quirky brown shoes. I finally smiled from a memory and there was no animosity, or love, or pain in the smile. Nothing but happiness from a memory; happiness from a thought about him. And this was the first time since our break-up three months ago that I was able to think about him without feeling regret, pain, sadness or jealousy. Am I ready to be his friend? Absolutely not. But it appears as if I am well on my way to either being able to accept life without him or allowing him to have an active presence in my world.