“This just isn’t working….I’m moving out.”

I blinked through my Demerol induced haze from a tooth extraction the day before and struggled to make his words make sense. It didn’t take too long before I realized that I was being dumped.

Dumped. The word sounded about as bad as it felt. As in, I took a dump. Dump truck. That place looks like a dump.

This was the first time I’d been dumped in a long time. First of all, I’d been single for quite a few years before I got together with him. Second of all, I’d been the one to leave in all but one of my other relationships and that one wasn’t really a relationship. It had lasted less than six months.

Thirty four years old and never really been dumped. I guess now was the time.

So, what did I do?

I drank. And I drank. And then I drank some more. Luckily, I was on vacation at the time and didn’t have to worry about work the next day. Or unluckily, considering that I didn’t have to worry about work. Depends on how you look at it, I guess.

Finally, I sobered up…you can’t stay drunk forever. Plus, I had some really good friends who would’ve kicked my ass if I wallowed in drunken self-pity for too long. And besides, I’ve never done self-pity well.

I started resuming my life. I finally went back to the grocery store where we shopped. I finally watched the morning show that had always been playing when we got ready for work. And I finally stopped sleeping on the sofa and slept in my room.

And I lived.

And I started noticing all the wonderful aspects of single life. I took off on a moment’s notice and went to a concert, a concert my ex probably wouldn’t have been interested in. I hogged the covers. I slept sideways in the bed. I ate Chef Boyardee out of the little microwavable bowl for dinner. I discovered Yoga. And I realized that even though I had lost one friend, the friendships I did have grew stronger, and I even gained new friends. I guess that old cliche’ is correct. When one door closes, another one opens.

I’m spending a lot more time on me now. Spending a lot more time by myself. It’s almost like a caterpillar entering a cocoon. I’m dieting, working out, enhancing my physical appearance. But I’m also working on me. What is it I want? That’s something I haven’t thought about it a loooooong time. I’ve given so much to others that I haven’t spent enough time on me. Eventually, I’ll emerge from this stage of my life a littler wiser and with shiny new wings! I’ll be a butterfly. 🙂

It’s going to be my very own Eat, Pray, Love. But without the carbs and the travel.
For now, I’m out.
Peace!