Last night I turned out my light and was snuggling into my bed, trying to find just the right position and I started to think.
I have lived alone for almost 4 years. 3 years, 9 months and 11 days to be precise. I was thinking about just how routine living alone is now. My fiance stays at my house over the weekends but I am alone Monday through Thursday. I thought back to the process of my ex-husband and I splitting up. We decided to split on Feburary 20, 2006 - 4 days before our 5th wedding anniversary. It had been a long time coming but the actual discussion -- the one in which we decided to divorce was very calm and very loving. We both cried, we both laughed - we still knew (and actually still know) just how to make the other one laugh. 12 days later, he moved out. Our friends were amazing. They came over and helped him pack -- they brought boxes and meals and their labour. I remember one night when my best friend came over and she spent 3 hours in our office helping him pack up his books. A friend asked me why - if she was my best friend - why was she helping HIM move. I simply answered "because she is my best friend and she knows I can't do it." Another night another friend came over and while my ex was running to the car to bring in boxes, K asked me how I was doing and I fell into his arms and sobbed. The sobbing that sounds like an animal is dying. Which makes sense -- in that moment - I felt like I was dying. As I heard my ex open the door, I steadied myself and wiped away my tears and began organizing the kitchen so we could split up measuring spoons and spatulas.
The weekend that he moved out - a friend of mine and I went to Lancaster to outlet shop -- well, that was the idea, mostly it was to get me out of the house. We came home and my bedroom was empty -- my ex had taken our bedroom furniture (as part of our split agreement) so we moved the guest bed into the master bedroom and I set up some milk crates next to the bed. That night I sat in bed and looked around. I felt like my home and my heart had been torn apart. I never regretted the decision we made to split -- it was the right decision for both of us but I felt like in that moment I had lost everything. I truly believed I would be alone in that house forever -- sleeping on the floor with milk crates surrounding me.
Last night though - as my mind was filled with the last fleeting thoughts of pre-sleep I realized that I wasn't going to be alone in that house forever...in a few short months I'll have to establish new routines and get used to sharing my space again. I am very much looking forward to it but I'm also acknowledging in myself that I rebuilt my life in a way that on a night in March 2006, I never thought possible.
This is such a beautiful post. It's amazing how much has changed since then. And it sounds like you have really grown a lot.
Posted by: Jess | Thursday, 17 December 2009 at 04:33 PM