all the adventure is in the beginnings, the endings--i don't so much like

I haven't had to go through it for about 15 years now, but it's still true after all this time: breaking up hurts.

My first thought towards dating as a divorced woman was....'nope'. Forget about myself and focus on my kids. That sounded like the most logical plan I could come up with. I know that's what I would have done had my husband died instead of just fallen off the middle-aged deep end. He was so fabulous in my mind anyway, no one would have been able to live up to him.

After about 5 months though, I started to think how unfair it all seemed. Why should I be "forced" to be alone because of the poor choices of another? I was 33--in the prime of my life. I had so much to offer a man: A deep love for living at all levels. Happiness and security in who I was and where I was going. The uncanny ability to be funny and serious at the same time. Not being too bad off in the looks department, but having my real beauty lay in those things that don't fade with age. And I made a mean chocolate cake. So, God and I had a good talk. I told him that I promised not to go out and aggressively pursue anyone, that if He had someone in mind--He should pretty much just drop the guy at my feet so I would know He meant it to be.

So I waited.

And I thought there would just be one.

But it started to rain men.

Everyone seemed to have someone they wanted to fix me up with. I also found a great group of single friends who were all about supporting one another in our faith through this difficult time--and amongst them were several men who took an interest in me. One weekend I had 4 dates with 4 different guys. It was a little *overwhelming*. All of this, mind you, was done waaaaaay away from my boys. In fact, I put all kinds of rules in place for myself and these 'dudes' as to how much, if at all, my children were to get involved in this get-to-know-you process. They have never seen me showing physical affection beyond a friendly good -bye hug to any man.


And then Haute Cakes Mystery Man came into my life last September. A mutual friend introduced us. HCMM was the only one in this string of one-daters that caught...and held...my attention. We talked for two months before finally deciding we had to meet. I wore a path in the sky between here and California going to see him as often as I could. Things just felt right and comfortable and happy when we were together. He was (and remains) a wonderful man, a wonderful son, a wonderful father, brother, and friend. I used to write quite a bit about it on the blog, but had to take down the posts in the midst of his serious custody negotiations, and in respect of his privacy.

10 months later, things were still good. But situations in our lives kept pushing us further apart instead of closer together. My ex, who was all gung-ho about moving to California at first (should everything have worked out just right), suddenly changed his mind for reasons I can only guess at. That was probably the biggest hang up. How could I be the mom who took her kids away from their dad? For all Brad did that was wrong, he was, and still is, trying to be a good father. How would I continue my schooling and re-establish my business in a new state? How would I sell my house in this economy? AND buy a new one in one of the most posh cities in the United States? The questions just kept piling up as quickly as we could scratch out some kind of rough answer for them.

Finally, after a very earnest prayer, I felt that all of it was becoming too difficult because God was letting me know it wasn't right. Not right now. And I needed to let Haute Cakes be free to find someone with a lot less complications...and probably a lot closer. It's hard for me to hear spiritual answers sometimes. I have to have a little nudge, or sometimes an all-out smack upside my head, before I get the message. So, so many times my will wants to overpower my Father's.

Yeah, it still stings. Especially after your life has been ripped apart once, and then you start to see a glimpse of how it could be again...and down it goes once more. But it is what it is and I don't like the way things turn out when I force them to work. And this was starting to feel forced, and very selfish on my part.

So--here I am again. Hurt, but better for the experience. Better for knowing Haute Cakes and his nearly perfect family. Better for being let in to his inner circle of amazing friends. Better for doing the hard thing.

And I wait for ..........
answers.