I never thought that I'd love anyone so much.

I wanted to update this last night, but one glass of wine after a 12.5 hour day is a sure-fire way to fall asleep. I feel refreshed this morning after a solid eight hours of rest, and am wondering if I should make most of my weeks like this week. The combination of two days off, three 12-hours, and two short day seems to work in my favor. I had a bit of a sore throat for most of yesterday, but it seems to be gone now. Keeping my fingers crossed for no strep this season.

It's been a year. Sometime this week, I can't remember the exact date, which just tells you how much has changed. I know that I've got a journal lying around here that was my savior after everything happened. I found it a few weeks ago, and while reading it broke my heart, it also made me realize how thankful I am that everything happened the way it did. I was talking to my boss last night about why I work so much, why I don't want a boyfriend, and why I don't see one at all in my future. She asked whether or not I thought the divorce was the reason, or whether it was Ben. I've never compared the two side by side like that, but of course, it must be both. Events change a person, every little thing that happens to you on a daily basis makes you who you are, and so you can't ignore any of it when it comes to deciding why you feel the way you feel.

There is a bit of responsibility that needs to be taken, and that's why I've wanted to write about regrets lately. When I say that Ben is to "blame" for this, I have to blame myself as well. I didn't give it my all, my best shot, and I regret that. I do. Because I'll never know whether or not I could have saved us. I'm sorry that when you picked me up at the airport in London, I didn't drop my bags and run to you. I wanted to. I was tired, and scared, and the sight of you holding coffee and flowers at the gate melted my heart. Still, I walked. I'm sorry that I picked a fight with you in the square in Venice, or that I smoked and talked to that guy you hated. I swear I wasn't flirting with him, but I know you took it as one of many stabs. I'm sorry that I ever kissed Josh, or let him kiss me, or told you about it. I thought I was doing the right thing; I tout the virtues of honesty so much that I didn't think there was any other way. I see now though that that was the beginning of the end for us. I should've just let it be what it was: a kiss between friends because we both missed others. I didn't want him, I never did. I went home and cried all night while Heather stroked my hair and told me it would be okay. But I knew better. I knew you wouldn't forgive me. I am, after all, the person who knows you best.

It will take a very special person to love me the way that you loved me. It wasn't perfect, and there are things I wish for in my next boyfriend that you simply couldn't give me. It would be so much easier if I could just pick traits out of a catalog: honesty, sense of humor, good cook, great smile. I know that I simply haven't found my match yet, and that he's out there. Who really knows if I'll ever find him. If you see him, give him my number.

Gavin's birthday is tomorrow. And Jack Jack can almost say my name. These are the things that matter. These are the things that make my heart swell. So. I survived. I can breathe without you. I guess you were right, too. Sometimes you just have to let go of the fear, close your eyes, and jump. You never would've let me fall.