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I can’t help but feel that Sheridan is placing the blame on Daniel, but I'm the only person responsible for my writer’s block.
She’s been on this anti-Daniel kick ever since I broke down and confessed to her the new arrangement that Daniel and I agreed to before he left.
I can see from her perspective how it makes Daniel look. But she hasn’t been around for the last eight years of my relationship with him. He’s been my rock since my sophomore year at Oklahoma State when we first met, two months before the storm hit that changed everything. Is it really worth throwing it all away just because he asked for an eight-month sabbatical from our relationship for some self-discovery?
And it’s not as if I’m denied the same liberties, though I haven't been on a single date since he left.
All I want to do is wait out the time and reunite after this break as a stronger, more confident woman who takes more chances and is open to new experiences. I want to prove to him that I'm not the same person who feels trapped in my past and unable to move forward.
I made a full list of all the things I want to work on personally during this off time. They’re all jotted down on a well-organized spreadsheet on my laptop that I so creatively named the “Fix-Me List.” The items are listed on a scale from easiest to overcome to most challenging.
Unfortunately, I spent most of the time focusing all my energy on eliminating my writer’s block that I’ve ignored the spreadsheet. With only one month left, I want to get as many of these items checked off my list.
1.Go on a trip by yourself
2.Face your fear of sleeping alone through a storm
3.Try a new cuisine
4.Learn a new hobby
5.Make a new friend
6.Go on a first date again
7.Have a fling in Mexico
8.Go deep sea fishing
The list continues to grow, and item number seven was Sheridan’s idea.
Her actual words were, “Find a guy to screw your brain out and make you forget all about Daniel.”
I shortened it to "Have a fling…"
And even that was painful enough to write.
I know Daniel is out dating, too, but it’s hard to imagine letting another man that close to me after spending most of my adult life with the same man.
I’ve seen the cropped photos of Daniel on social media, where he cuts out the women in the photos with him. He doesn’t go as far as to photoshop out the well-manicured hand draped over his shoulder or the arm stretch around his waist.
And why should he?
He’s free to date, and so am I.
But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Once, I even spotted a photo he sent me, but he hadn’t anticipated her reflection in the water fountain.
I couldn’t see her face but her long blonde hair was enough to know what I was looking at.
Daniel had a type before me.
Blonde—tall—athletic… all of the things I’m not.
I'm five foot four, with brown hair to my shoulder blades and I didn't play sports in high school like Daniel did.
Sheridan continues to pack more items neatly into my large maroon-colored luggage, sitting on top of the queen-sized bed that Daniel and I have shared for nearly five years. It was one of the first big purchases we made when I got my advance from the publishing house that signed me.
