Report card

It's been a pretty productive day.  I've half packed for a work trip, cleaned and polished two pairs of shoes and of course, this whole morning, I was occupied with the last day of the student conference I'm chaperoning for.  

I'm was just sitting around decompressing, and it hit me that it's been several months since the break up now.  I still think about it a lot (obviously) but things have changed a little bit.  For one, I don't even remember now actual date, which is probably a good thing because that means I can't and don't keep a running count.  And though I spend a lot of time feeling sad and angry, some people (ex included) tell me that I'm handling it great.  And even more surprisingly, with grace.

The truth though:

Number of days I was fully non-functioning:  Two, but only right after.

Number of days I was sort of non-functioning:  About ten.  I faked my way through.

Number of days I bunked off work: None.

Number of days I broke down at work: One.

Number of times I've lashed out at him: About three.  

Number of times I've done other related undignified things: Two.

Number of times I've broken down in front of friends: Countless but probably not in the last two months.

Number of people I've told the deepest, darkest secret about this whole ordeal: Three, and they've kept it so far.

Number of times I've broken down alone:  Countless.  And on-going.

But the amount of time I think about it on average each day: 20% - 30%

I guess that even though I'm really not in the best place ever, I've managed to fake being close enough.  I spent a lot of nights crying (and worse) and at the time, if you had told me that this veneer of dignity was the best thing I could've done for myself, I would've spat in your face.  The pain was bone deep and I wanted to throw things.

But now, a couple of steps removed, I can see just how much pretending grace means.  I can hold my head up high (even if I don't feel like it).  I slipped up a couple of times, but beyond that, I decided I wouldn't allow myself anything more.

I can say that I didn't Facebook stalk or badger my ex about his whereabouts or his love life.  If I ever felt insecure about any of those things, I fought it out with myself.  My friends love me enough to grant me the tears that I needed when I needed them, but I can say that I stood on my own at times as well.  

And even though I'm all raw and cut up and I really don't feel very dignified, I can actually say that I did most things with class.  

For someone who is as emotional as I am, that was a surprising lesson to learn.  And it was also startling to find that the more gracefully I behaved, the more graceful I wanted to go on being.  No matter how angry I got, or how much I wanted to send nasty texts, I sat tightly on my hands. 

I suppose that people are right about living honourably.  I have a long way to go and there will be many chances to fall along the way.  But I guess to all visible intents and purposes, I've been doing okay after all.