I'm hoping this is the start of a new chapter. CP stopped letting me purchase readings because I didn't fax in a form to have my credit card verified. I don't really understand this policy, but ever since they turned me away, I haven't bought any readings with them, and was really grateful that they were so odd about it as I needed to stop anyhow. Today, I got an email from keen saying they had deactivated my account just like I asked. It feels weird not being able to log in, see who's on, etc. But I also feel like this time, I'm done with psychics. I've never had my account deactivated before.
This started about two weeks ago when a relationship I had ended very badly (not the guy who sent me running to psychics). With the end of this relationship, something really broke in me and I stopped caring or wondering what was going to happen next, or if I was going to find "love" (whatever that means). I am just going to live in the here and now, surround myself with my friends and kids, and just try to live my quiet, productive life. I want to be free from needing someone else to tell me what to think or what to believe or what to hope for. I'm going to figure all of that out on my own. I didn't call a psychic for two weeks and yesterday, when I spent ten dollars to chat with a cheap psychic about career prospects (because I am now losing my job) I asked keen to pull the plug.
I think it's cool if ya'll want to keep calling psychics. I wasn't ready to quit and move on until I was. And it took some unfortunate circumstances to get me here. But I feel really finished myself. I messaged my "soul mate" to tell him that I no longer want or expect anything from him anymore. The Facebook notification showed "seen" about ten minutes later, but has since disappeared, leaving me to wonder if he read or just ignored it, tempting me to run to the phone to talk to someone to find out. But I didn't. It doesn't matter whether he read it or not because releasing him was for me. I honestly do not care if I ever see him again. I don't care if he has a storybook wedding with someone ten years younger and forty pounds lighter than me and produces two angellic children and siphons a life of exquisite happiness after robbing me of 16 months of my life, after causing me to examine every self doubt and emotional issue I've ever carried. I. do. not. care. And I can say that without faking it, without saying it only because I know it's the right thing to say. I truly feel that way, and although this has been a horrible, painful, expensive nightmare, I am so so grateful that I have finally arrived in a place where I can say that and mean it.
