The breeze from the open car window grazed my face, blew my long hair back and seemed to clear my mind with its purity.  I closed my eyes, enjoying the softness of the air that brought freedom to my spirit.  The sun kissed my face, warming my skin and undoubtedly forcing my freckles to become darker.

And yet, my heart still ached.

Peace lasted but moments until my mind circled back to our relationship and its brutal ending.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so Momma kept dragging me out of the house after the break up, trying to cheer me up… Words can’t explain how thankful I am for her, but I wasn’t ready to cheer up.  Yes, it had already been a month after he left me, but it was normal to still be hurting- right?

Our relationship seemed so perfect to me, so completely full of joy and adventure!  But looking back it wasn’t as dreamy as I had imagined…  We honestly didn’t have a single thing in common.  Our conversations would lull to silence after having listened to him talk about cars for hours upon hours.  I didn’t know anything about cars!  Hell, I drove a ‘99 4 Runner and the check engine light was always on – but it worked, didn’t it?  What more was to be said?

We never talked about anything real, like our biggest fears and dreams.  We didn’t talk about God or the meaning of life or how the heck the earth came into creation.  We never did anything but makeout and drive around town.  How pathetic.

One day, he told me he wanted to marry me, that I was the girl of his dreams after just two months of dating!  Crazy, huh?

I thought he was it!  That I had met my person, but I was so wrong.  So naive, irrational and unrealistic! I thought we were in love, my eyes were blinded to the obvious – we were oh so wrong for eachother in almost every single way.

And yet, I was still hurting.

Was I heartbroken over Tristan or heart broken for myself?  Heart broken that my idea of a perfect relationship might not exist?  Heartbroken that I may endure hundreds of  nasty breakups until I find the one?  But who even knows if the man I’ve been looking to spend the rest of my days with is even out in the world!  What if I never find a man who wants to live life with me?  What if I am unlovable, undesired, unworthy?

I can’t go there.  That thought is completely unbearable.

“Abs?”  Momma’s voice freed me from my tiring thoughts.

“Hun, you have got to stop crying over him.  He isn’t worth all these tears.”  She gave me a worried look from behind the wheel.  Her hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white.

I touched my cheek, feeling the tears that fell from my eyes.  I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

“I know Momma, I’m sorry.”  I wiped the tears I had let fall one too many times. The car slowed as Momma took the exit onto Briargate boulevard.  I watched the sun waning in the sky, creeping lower in the sky to inevitably hide behind the mountains… But I didn’t want the sun to go down.  Nighttime always brought me more pain, more fear, more anxiety, more haunting dreams and thoughts…

“Where to first Abby?  Francesca’s or Sephora?”

Both good options,  “Let’s do Francesca’s first, that way I can find a matching lipstick at Sephora after if I buy a new outfit.”  I gave Momma a pathetic smile that she accepted warmly.

Therapy shopping.  Story of my life.  Whenever I am  too depressed to leave the house, my friends and family lure me out through the temptation of shopping.  I have no idea why, but spending money has always made me feel better.  Until the bills come in of course…

Buying a new dress, new makeup, a pair of earrings, new shoes – literally anything makes me feel better.  If I look good, I feel good.  And maybe my looks will help me find a new man someday who truly loves me.  Who is actually good for me.  If I am pretty enough, maybe, just maybe, I will be worthy of love.