Now the divorce is final the question most would ask is, ‘What Now?” That is simple. Whatever I want. There is nothing that can hold me back from achieving my dreams but myself, and I’m not about to let anything stand in my way anymore. From now on, I will be operating under the concept that anything is possible. And people I do mean anything.
My divorce celebration started at the bar of a five star hotel. Like I said at 11am in the morning. There I was, sipping wine with out a care in the world. By the time I left, needless to say I was tipsy. From there, my man candy and I – note I said I was tipsy – had a mouth-watering lunch at a divine restaurant. By the sea, just like I love. Then after a peaceful walk in the surf, the naughty man took me shopping. Talk about a glorious day.
Since becoming involved with Mr. Divine I have discovered what it is like to be in a relationship with someone who thinks about and cares for me. Not to mention someone who values my opinion. I’ve also found out what it is like to be pampered and spoilt by my lover. It’s a feeling unlike anything I have ever experienced, and I do mean ever. My ex-husband wasn’t a nice man and this folks was putting it mildly.
It’s a heady experience, and often I would pinch myself questioning if it was truly real. The things he would do, not just the simple gentleman like things of opening my door or holding my chair. I’m talking about calling me out of the blue to tell me he misses me. Or sending me flowers or some small gift as a reminder that, he is there and wants to continue to be there. This man wants to be in my life and was willing to take the time and energy to show it.
That is why I’m always asking myself, is this is for real. Had I really landed so solidly on my feet after the calamity of my marriage that I had managed to find a man who was near perfect? A friend, a lover, a companion, all a woman would need when ever she needed it. Just thinking about it all had me tempted to question when the next shoe would drop.
The thing is I knew I had to make sure I didn’t do that. Sit there, and invite complications into my life. What I had to do was to keep firmly in my mind, a picture of where I wanted to go and the uncomplicated road I planned to take to get there. That is my plan, and I’m sticking to it. I just wonder how many people I need to send the memo to so they know to take their cloud of doom and gloom, and keep on stepping.
Diary of a Recovering Idiot is a work of fiction being written in serial format. More about what happened the day I got my special piece of paper in part three of “What Now?”