Fucking TRUST! You're lonely without it and utterly screwed if you dare invest it in others. At least that's been my experience. The risk involved in trusting someone (post-separation) is so absolutely unnerving to me, that I've been walking around with this uncontrollably latent paranoia that the world at large is out to get me.
It was during that ATTACHMENT PHASE that I came to realize just how little I had truly known my EX when we first got married. I know that sounds weird. It's just that, as years passed, the depth of our friendship plus my love and attraction to him expanded in ways I never thought imaginable. I felt as if I had grown to know his true character, his persona and his ego; having equal love and compassion for each. I remember staring at him, soaking him in and feeling so lucky. He made me feel loved, cherished, respected, admired, appreciated, and desirable. And I equally loved who he was as a man, husband and friend. We had created such a strong bond that, life without my EX, seemed inconceivable. He was my family, a part of me... we were attached at the hip.
This newfound realization that I was, perhaps, better off without my EX gave me brain space to fantasize about my potentially exciting new life as a single girl. I could start fresh. Create a world where work would be fulfilling, life would be social and love would be an adventurous thrill ride of hot men. In fact, I was gonna be the "Samantha" for the first time in my life! Why the hell not? After eight loyal years to the same dude, I owed it to myself to flex my sexual prowess all over New York City.
All that self-help woo-ha couldn’t have prepared me for the next whammy. If anything, it just thickened my rose colored glasses which, when finally shattered, led to corneal lacerations that would render me blind to hope and love for the next couple of years. It all started with me chit-chattin’ on the phone with a mutual friend of mine and my EX.
