Missing Me

Alright here's the thing... I miss me. I miss me in a way most women miss those unforgettable ex-boyfriends. The way that requires you stock your freezer with ice cream and your fridge with cheap, sparkling wine so you can consume massive quantities while watching movies like 'Say Anything' or 'My Best Friend's Wedding' or 'While You Were Sleeping'. I used to love me. I really did. Love. Luv even. We're talking borderline narcissism. Most of all, I loved the way I would go to bed with books, notebooks and papers spread out around the bed. Working late into the night because there were just not enough hours in the day only to get up extra early because with morning came immeasurable possibility. I loved the woman who could handle a million things at once - even after she'd dropped them all for a friend or two in need. I adored the way she was so professional at work, able to joke and handle the pressure. The fact that she was so dedicated at times... Oh, how I loved me. I loved me anywhere, too. I loved me in New York City, giddy when she was at Zabars, in heaven at the used bookstore that she didn't want to leave. I loved me in Arizona, at one with the earth in a very raw way. Boots in the dirt. Skin in the sun. And I was sensitive. Really I was. To children, women, friends, family and men. I loved that about me. I really loved me. And I miss me now. Because I'm gone. Everything about me that I loved so much is gone. If anything is left at all, it's only 50% there at most. Like a bad break-up I seem to have dumped me without explanation. Now my days are just spent wondering where I went and why. What part of me let me down so much that I had to go away now? Only those who have been there will understand that last sentence. And I wonder sometimes...was it the money that made me? Was it the job? Was it the title? Because that all seems so superficial, and I wouldn't care about it being gone if that's true but...it seems that when the money, the job and the title went away...so did I. Did I only love me because of that? I don't get it really... But I miss me. I really do. And I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing to gain that part of me back. I don't know exactly how to move on when you've broken up with yourself.