When Dodging a Bullet Feels Like Sh*t (#31writenow, #nablopomo)

by P. Braithwaite

I’ve been pretty vocal about my relationship with Dr. Dolittle. I’ve written about the breakup, I’ve spoken about not loving him, but what I don’t often mention is that he was my one of my best friends. As a result of confusing our friendship with romantic love, I was planning to relocate to the Midwest. I was going to move my life to be with him.

In my heart, I knew that was a bad idea. I knew I wasn’t passionate about him and that something was amiss, but I was planning to relocate anyway. I thought the weird feelings I had were a flaw on my part. I wasn’t strong enough to realize I could simply be alone. I hadn’t learned that being alone doesn’t make you unloveable.

So I convinced myself I was relocating for love.

During our nightly phone chats, he’d fill me in on all his womanizing friends. He’d explain how so and so’s girlfriend was moving for the sake of their relationship and she had no idea that so-and-so was a cheating bastard. We’d have philosophical discussions about this…

“He’s robbing her of choice!” I’d say. “People have the right to know what they’re getting into. If they don’t know the truth it’s not love!!”

I had no idea Dr. Dolittle
was worse than So-and-so. Sometimes I think ‘so-and-so’ was an imaginary friend, a way for Dr. Dolittle to confess his own sins, but I was too busy researching apartments to really notice.

Until, as fate would have it, the truth came out.

Finding out that Dr.Dolittle cheated on me was bad enough. Finding out ‘the other things’ shook me to my core. I changed my locks, my bank info, and stayed with my parents for at least a month. I felt physically robbed of my ability to trust myself. I am still learning to stay honest with myself at all costs.

But, as painful as it was to be blindsided that way, at least shit hit the fan before I moved.

My point is this: sometimes dodging a bullet feels like a punch in the throat — you can’t breathe, you fall forward, and you think you’re going to die, you get dirt in your eyes and you can’t see. When you hit the ground, you avoid a large bullet that was meant for your f*cking head.

You don’t realize it because you’re busy wailing and carrying on.

What doesn’t kill you is meant to save you. I promise. All trials and tribulations open you up to deeper truths…if you let them.

So today, just exhale. If you are facing something traumatic, if you are reeling from regret, know that it could’ve been soooo much worse. You made it out. Even if you waited, you made it out in the perfect time.

The worst is over now…and the rest? Well, how you recover is up to you…

And so it is.