You don’t know this because I haven’t written about it yet but Greg and I broke up about a month ago. Again.
And while I may not be the Gypsy Queen of fortune telling, I can honestly say that it’s for the last time. (Did you get that, Greg?!!)
It’s sad to say but sometimes people just grow apart. And sometimes two people just don’t share the same definition of the word “relationship”. I’m not saying that this was “our case”, although I would like to point out that we BOTH SPEAK ENGLISH. (And certain words have only one definition where I come from. Just saying.)
So what have I been up to this past month? Thinking, mostly. The last time I was single – really single – was over nine years ago so I’ve had a bit of adjusting to do. Also, when you’re with someone for that long just being without them takes some getting used to. (How many places do I avoid now because “that’s where WE used to go”?)
My best friends these last few weeks have been distractions; anything to keep my mind off the new reality. And while I usually pour my emotions out through writing, I wasn’t ready to face this wound – never mind share it.
Four weeks may not seem like a long time but I’m happy to report that a scab has grown over this situation, which can only mean one thing: I’m on the mend.
And you know what? This break-up is the best thing to happen to me in nine years. In fact, I LOVE my new routine.
I may not be the Grand Poubah of relationships but I AM the master of my day-to-day life and it feels pretty damn good!