Bittersweet

It's been hard to write recently. I've been backsliding into bad habits I had a few years ago, and when you're busy getting fucked up 7 nights a week then working the same amount, it's hard to pause for self-reflection.

I know what it is, too. I still miss J. When we broke it off, I avoided actually processing it. What's worse, I pretended we were fine as just friends. I still talk to him, I still see him when he's in town, hell, he and I cooked together last week. I helped him tile his fucking bathroom. I am a fantastic liar, I actually believed that by jumping into the dating pool again, I was over it. Not. Even. Close.

I shouldn't beat myself up about it so bad- theoretically I, too, am human. But it is so much harder than I want it to be to look at someone I want so bad to spend the rest of my life with and realize it probably won't happen. I need to give him up. But everything reminds me. Even my bar. Especially my bar. And that's really getting to me.

Progress on the bar is accelerating as far as the business plan. But every minute I spend on it, I want to share it with him. He was one of my catalysts to motivate me to actually work towards it. His influence is all over it, even without direct involvement. At this rate, I can only hope the bar consumes so much of my time I won't have time to dwell on him anymore.