I broke up with the Englishman. Or perhaps he broke up with me. I am not really sure what happened, how it happened, or why it happened, but the fact is, it happened. It has been stressful because we have a relationship that is also a friendship. He is my best friend so the thought of that ending with the relationship is hard. God willing we will find a way to be friends one day, but not today.
My heart is broken. The end was not nice so my feelings are hurt. I truly believe our friendship will survive, but that will depend on me. He is much more forgiving than I am so it will be interesting to see if in time I can set aside my ego and forgive both him and myself. I have been crying, thinking, and praying. I pretty much kept it to myself and not really spoken to my friends or family about it.
I wrote a short blog about our relationship ending. The people who read my blog on a daily basis have always supported me and I wanted to share with them. It is odd I was willing to share my sorrow with these virtual people, more than my real life friends. In the end these people have held my hand, hugged me, wiped my tears, made me laugh, and reminded me that after darkness comes light.
My followers on Facebook and Twitter are lovely. They have been reading my take on reality TV for a long time, and about my journey through life for even longer. I share everything here and in some ways they feel like they know me and we are friends. Thank God they do because it is with their support I am not still in bed. They have rallied me through a tough time.
They refuse to let me feel sorry for myself. They took time out of their days to remind me I am a catch. A break up is ultimately a rejection and they helped me to see that rejection does not make you unlovable, it just makes you available for the right love to find you. It is through a group of strangers that I have found comfort, support, and ultimately friendship. They saved me.
My heart is cracked but still working. I know what I want out of a relationship and I will find it. There are no guarantees, but with each love lost I learn about me, which is the key to finding him. I’m not expecting Prince Charming, but charming is required. That brings me to my new charming friend. I got an email today from a lovely man and with his permission, am sharing it.
“I read your stories in the Journal. I am on a computer everyday even though I am 76 years old. You parted from your gentleman friend. I don’t watch the TV garbage you do but I read your stories and I am thankful I don’t. It is when you write about you I am interested. You are single and should not waste time. Life is short. You need to date right away so you can find a new man. I have been married for 51 years to the love of my life and we think you’d be a suitable partner for our accountant. He is a Jewish 50 Prince Charming. When you are ready you let me know and you will go out for dinner. You be ready soon because love should be yours. You deserve it.”
I wrote the gentleman back and sent him my phone number. His wife called me back as he felt it would be disrespectful for him to call a lady back. I am in love with them and look forward to meeting them for coffee. Not sure about Prince Charming, but I am flattered they want to set me up. What a blessing it is that I am able to share my “stories”, and in return be rewarded with kindness from strangers.
I don’t know when I will be ready to date, but when I am, I will approach it with an open heart. Dating sucks and I dread doing it again, but love is grand and if weeding through frogs is what gets me to Prince Charming, I am willing to do the work. I am a special woman and I will meet my match. I truly believe that. I have an army of friends on my side, and we are all keeping the faith.
We welcome your feedback.
Your information will not be shared or sold without your consent. Get all the details.
Terms of Service
JewishJournal.com has rules for its commenting community.Get all the details.
JewishJournal.com reserves the right to use your comment in our weekly print publication.comments powered by Disqus