It was a bad time. I had been single for over a year in a small town. I loved my small town but my town did not love me. I had the constant feeling of being too much. Too loud, expressive, intense, needy. I didn’t feel funny, fun, or inspired. I felt like I was walking around banging tambourines while everyone else was chillin with a joint or staring out at me from a quieter, far less intense place.
I was lonely.
When I met you I was not impressed. I didn’t understand you. But with a commitment to keeping an open mind to new experiences, I began to spend time with you. First in little bits, like having short chats over an espresso at Starbucks. You wanted to connect with my long ago highschool memories, bring up old friends and acquaintances. Really, I wasn’t interested.
Then came CrossFit.
As my passion for CrossFit ignited, it seemed that overnight our connection exploded into a fiery colorful ball of giddy, creative energy. All of a sudden, it seemed, we shared something we were both discovering yet already deeply loved.
As I spent more time with you, I came to realize that you got me. You GOT me. You and only you understood my high energy, my need for intensity, my love of being positive and expressing myself with glee.
Mostly, and shockingly, you thought I was funny. You laughed at my humor, appreciated my sarcasm, encouraged me to express myself and happily countered my strong opinions with strong opinions of your own.
And we laughed. We laughed from early morning until late in the night. We were in love with our experience together and shared the need to make fun of it, and ourselves, for the sake of pure, glorious laughter.
Where before I felt insecure and afraid to express myself, now I felt inspired. Every day new ideas for fun spontaneously erupted. First were the Internet Dating Stories of the Day. Then, CouchFitt and Cougar CouchFitt. And the Cubbies. Oh, the Cubbies. And who would have ever dreamed of the Cougie Amanpurr videos?
On a more serious note we did the Deadlifts and Dresses Calendar together. And we went through surgery and healed our injuries together.
By posting an endless stream of pictures – of myself of course – and, well, sometimes of other people -we brought out the creativity in each other and inspired others to do the same.
But most important, each and every day, we spontaneously discussed, explored, learned, shared our passions and disappointments, and laughed. It was an addictive and glorious time.
I will always love you for that.
But, dear Facebook, it’s over.
We both know that some relationships are just not meant to last forever. We have become stagnant, mundane and let’s face it, boring. It has been this way for a long, long time. I have found myself hanging on rather than having the courage to break free.
Until now. I am not saying we can’t ever speak. We will always love each other and be there for each other. I know that. But for the time being, it is better for both of us if I take the initiative to say – Adieu.
After posting just this one more picture.