the back story

I'm Kayla. Not to be confused with Carrie. I don't live in a luxury high rise with a to-die-for closet and a group of close-knit besties and a designer wardrobe with a wealthy, well-endowed boyfriend living in the big city. Nope. Not this girl. I'm in my 30s (early 30s, I'll add). A single mom in a 2 bedroom apartment in the southernmost part of Georgia. It's as south Georgia as you can get without being in Florida. And my closet consists primarily of Orange and Blue "game day" gear from local boutiques (Go Gators!). I work a typical 8-5 office job and come home to an almost 5 year old that I affectionately call "the Baby". I have an ex that I'm still not over... we'll call him The Ex Formerly Known As The Sir. Or just The Ex. But you get it. No other Ex is even relevant at this stage. This one is the most recent and, quite honestly, the most distressing. But I'll get to all of that later.

I'm not sitting at a well-lit desk, sipping a glass of wine or a cosmo while writing about my latest sexual exploits. The truth is- the whole "sexual" part of my recent "exploits" is nonexistent. The last person I was "with" is far too scandalous to be mentioned (even on the blog... maybe one day I'll get brave), but I just haven't reached "that level" with another man since The Ex. I've dated. Well- I've tried. I've gone on dates. I've even gotten a "boyfriend"... but I'm not ready. I realized that today

See- one thing about the Ex... he pops back in. We've been doing this for a year and a half now, so I kind of know his games. I know them even better than he does, probably. And, likewise, he knows mine. This is probably a huge part of why we didn't work. Oh, and my incessant need to broadcast my life on social media/ in a blog/ to my best friend. Whatever. I digress. He popped back in this morning completely out of nowhere. Basically, he was busted creeping on my Facebook when he had previously blocked me. Do I think it was intentional? No. Not really. Do I think it was necessary? Yeah. Actually. Because it made me realize that I'm really NOT ready. I'm not over him. There's still so much hurt.... it's still a fresh wound. It's only been one month since we went our separate ways (exactly one month today, strangely enough). A month ago we were talking about our future. Today we don't speak at all. It's a strange dynamic- our relationship is. Someone once told me that we were the most functional of any dysfunctional couple she had ever met. And we were. We fought. There were a hundred reasons why we just didn't work. But we loved one another. Probably the deepest love that either of us had ever felt. It was intense. The lows were low, but man the highs were the highest you could get. And those highs--- that's what keep me up at night. Just remembering the nights dancing to Johnny Cash... him spinning me around like the goofball that he is.... sunsets in Fernandina... so much.

There was bad, though. Boy was there bad. And that's the stuff that I tend to not think about. I can't compete with a bottle or other women. And those were two things that he just couldn't give up. At least not for me. And I started becoming someone that I wasn't. I wasn't the girl that he fell in love with anymore. And I think that only a part of that was a result of that relationship. Part of it was probably just inevitable because of who I am as a person. I was bound to break at some point. Maybe it was timing. Hell, I don't know.

Doesn't matter now, I don't suppose. It's over. He's moved on. And my life is actually good. I'm as happy as I can be right now. He just got into my head this morning (I'm tellin' ya.... the man knows what he's doing).

But now that you know the back story, we can start getting to the good stuff....
Maybe I'll actually have some good stuff to write about. ;)

xx