And since I'm feeling emo...

I just got back from an 8-day work trip in Memphis. Aside from a co-worker getting beaten up, event attendees having their car windows shot out, having my phone stolen, and being called a "snowflake", it was a pretty decent trip. Beale Street is pretty fantastic.

I had the opportunity to hang out a little bit with a really great athlete attending our event from Mexico. Funny, nice, humble, solid dude. The problem? He shares a name with, looks like, and sounds like my ex. Bean's biological father. In fact, when Bean's father called me out of nowhere a little over a year ago, I thought it was this guy. We were all hanging out at a bar, and I told him that whole story, about how I thought I was talking to him and just shooting the shit like I'd just seen him the day before. Looking back on it, it's kind of funny.

Then he said, "So when we hang out and talk, do you feel, like, sad or whatever?" I said no, but I kind of do. I felt a little drained and a little sad afterward.

Part of me wishes I could be completely over that time in my life. But another part really holds onto it. It helps to remind me that things can almost always be worse. It helps to remind me what real heartache and devastation feels like when I'm being overly dramatic. It also helps to remind me what it was like to be young and in love. Before the fight, before his disappearance from my life, back when I gave everyone the benefit of the doubt and was filled with optimism.

This guy sat across from me at our table and asked me, with a totally disgusted look, "Do you just totally hate him?" And I said no. Because I don't. I have the most beautiful little girl in the world. How could I hate the person who is half of her, half of who she is, with her tender heart and quick wit? I couldn't.

Aaaaand, now I'm feeling weepy.

I shouldn't blog on my period.

Committment

I've committed the last few years of my life to veganism and animal rights.

And tomorrow I'm getting that committment put on my skin forever.