Not really the kind of thing one admits to in 'public' right? But luckily my husband bored of my blog years ago and very seldom visits anymore.
I'm seeing someone. Someone who makes time for me, who really (really) listens, someone who I can be completely open with, who doesn't judge me. Someone who accepts me completely.
Truth is the relationship was short-lived, we're no longer an item. Maybe this is why I can speak about it more freely now.
Truth is she only really wanted to see me twice. True to my history in these matters, she only really needed 1 and a half sessions. I only really needed 1 and a half sessions.
1 in which to sob uncontrollably and throw all my metaphorical dirty laundry around the room, to say out loud those things we all have unsaid within our heads and hearts.
And then a full, introspective week later, another session to tell her how I removed the stains, washed and folded all those grimy unmentionables and were now able to pack them neatly away, fresh and clean for at least another 5+ years.
God, therapy is amazing. I'm back, and I'm feeling great.