I thought I knew what I wanted.

Write On Edge ... it's been a while. This prompt got me motivated.

This week we asked you to write a memoir piece about an unfulfilled goal or a broken resolution, beginning with the words, “I knew what I wanted”, keeping your words under 400. I'll admit I'm not counting my words this week, I'm just happy I am writing. And though I stuck to the prompt my unfulfilled goal was fulfilled and then not, and then it was again ... and I hope that's okay! I'm also linking up with Shell over at Pour Your Heart Out as I'm in the mood to talk from the heart about the past and this post is perfect for both, I think.

I knew what I wanted.

I wanted so much. I wanted to be part of a couple. I wanted to feel that we were normal again. I wanted to be with him. I hated that we were apart. It hadn't been that many months, but felt like so much longer.

Mix in a few drinks, a few random moments of eye contact and me flirting with the bartender and I had him. I don't think I meant to get him back that way. The ex, sadly. Not the bartender. The bartender who kissed me. Just a peck. Maybe it was even on the cheek. But it was the highlight of my life at that point. Because, G-d, he was hot.

But the ex was there. And I knew it. I wanted him to see. I wanted him to know I had strength. I didn't NEED him. And yet ...

I wanted him to get jealous.

We split on good terms. Tears. Emotion. Sadness. "Friendship."

But we saw one another five days a week. How could it end easily? We tripped over one another walking down the halls. I turned a corner and walked directly into him. It hurt, but I knew it was right. And yet - it hurt. My first true break-up. My first real relationship. What was I holding onto? I was the one who said something. Spoke up. We knew it was time.

And yet ...

I knew what I wanted.

Him to see the bartender. See me. Happy. Flirting. Hiding whatever sadness I had inside. Raising a glass. Or two. Or however many. Side by side with friends. Guys. Girls. Mostly guys. It was how I spent many years of my life. I'm a guys' girl. I'll drink, watch sports, shoot the shit and let them talk about it. Still am, but sadly most of those guys have disappeared from view. The two I am closest with can say they knew me when - and know me now. I'm much happier.

Anyway - I knew what I thought I wanted. And then I got it. And after a few months I knew I didn't want it anymore. It was time. Again. To say goodbye. And shut that door. To open new ones. One new one, specifically.

And then, well, slowly. Surely. I let go of the fear. And ...

I knew what I wanted.

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