All this cold weather is a constant reminder

. . .of how much I miss cuddling.  All I want to do is breathe and feel.

I've decided that I'd try basing my blog posts of tweets that I made.  Some of my tweets don't quite make sense in this context but I'll do my best.  This one is brought to you from earlier in the week.

I was feeling quite despondent and took some time on Monday, Columbus Day, to clean my room.  Not clean as in dusting and vaccuuming--I wish I had done that, actually.  But clean as in removing all of the things that remind me of my previous relationship.  I've been single for weeks but there was just so much around my room that I couldn't bring myself to move anything.  Things changed Monday--I got the drive to get nearly everything together in one spot and out of sight.  I'm sure almost all of us can relate to how much it sucks to have constant reminders around your room of something good.  And it was really, really good.  I vowed not to throw anything away and I didn't. Except for a really old, used Dunkin' Donuts hot chocolate cup that had a wonderful message written on it.  Since I'm a sucker for memories, I took a picture of it so I can at least have the message and the idea in picture form forever.
This is where things start to suck.  Two days later, Apple comes out with the iOS5 update for the iPhone.  Of course, I'm excited to upgrade my equipment--especially after reading what would change.  Technology, ever being the fickle bitch, decided to make my life a bit more difficult.  None of my information, pictures, contacts, or apps were backed up in iTunes.  Therefore, when the update was finished and my phone restored to factory settings I had nothing.  All pictures gone. All apps gone. Contacts gone. It was devastating!  Thankfully, I was able to put my contacts back in the phone and found most of the apps I lost.  However, it's those pictures I'll miss the most.  500 pictures of sunsets, laughter and pure wonderfulness.  And that cup that's already in the trash.  Never got a chance to upload it to my computer.
And this happening while I was bemoaning my single-ness.  Two ways to look at it: nothing is on the phone to remind of what was.  I can focus on what is.  Another is that there are memories that i'll never retrieve because technology is fickle.

All I can do now is what I've been doing for the past month--accepting and moving on.