Believe it or not

Belief is a peculiar thing. It's essentially about putting your faith in something that has not, and in many cases, cannot be proven. I believe in God. Which is nothing compared to the fact that in 80's we all believed George Michael was straight. These days we're expected to believe that the kids being passed as Michael Jacksons's really are his- despite the obvious fact that they're of different race. Hell, R. Kelly believes he can fly!

I believed in us. I genuinely thought we were a great match; that we had what it takes to make it. But I believe in marriage. I believe it can be done. I believe I'd make a good wife.

And now I have to believe I made the right choice by walking away from The Man. And it's not easy. Sometimes I google him, just to see his name. The sight of those familiar letters fills my heart with tenderness and my eyes with tears.

Every day is a struggle. Even before I open my eyes in the morning I feel like I've been hit in the head with a sledgehammer as the full extent of the hurt starts to dawn on me. Every day I have to fight the temptation to email him, to tell him exactly how much I miss him; just how dreadfully much I love him. So far I have managed to resist the urge. It's very much like overcoming alcoholism- one day at a time. 

I have to believe. I have to believe that I have made it known what it is that I want and need and what it is that I can offer. And if he ever has a change of heart (after he's first acquired a heart), he knows where to find me. And the words (all 4 of them) needed to win me over.

I have to believe in myself. I have to believe I'm worth the Grand Gesture.