Today has been one of the more difficult ones. It’s been two weeks since boy told me he wasn’t romantically interested. Thursdays, therefore, are bittersweet. It’s the only day of the week that I’ve done the same thing consistently since about the time I moved out here (that is, take a yoga class taught by the head of maintenance in the Headlands). But because he happened to tell me right before my yoga class two Thursdays ago, it seems that the trauma of that experience is now associated with the class. Grrrrrr. Sigh.
I guess I had gotten a bit over confident in my grief surpassing abilities. Silly me. It takes more than two weeks to grieve a death. And I think yoga is an ideal ritual to have surrounding that death. Well, there it is. More struggling. It kind of blindsided me.