Blackjack & 13

In any tough break-up (especially those who have been together for a long time and lived together), no matter who initiates the idea of moving on, each side will experience moments of sadness and loneliness. Sadness that the companion you once had is no longer around. That person who was there when you needed them to be, is no longer allowed to be a support system to you.

It's usually when life deals you one more bad card to add to the hand you're already playing with. In Blackjack, that bad card usually causes a bust. You're over your limit, and you wish you could go back and erase that hand. In life, sometimes that card makes you say uncle, when that one more added stress can make you think everything was better as it was before you played that hand.

So in this analogy, I'm holding 16 in my hand. Then I was dealt Friday the 13th.

Bust?

Let's just say that wrecking my fancy sports car into a guardrail should have made me hit rock bottom. It could have been the one straw that made the load too heavy. Oddly enough...it didn't.

Unfortunate event? Yes.
But I surprisingly feel completely unaffected by it. Not once did it even go through my head that I was making any mistake by moving on, and playing the hand I was dealt. I'm truly blown away. I hold a new burden, heaped on top of the already existing burden, and not even for a second do I feel like asking the wrong person to help carry it.

Here, Friday the 13th couldn't leave well enough alone, and it bites me in the ass. Yet I sit here and I'm feeling pretty good.