A slight break in writing, but don’t think it was due to laziness.

OK, it started off as laziness, then became prolonged sickness, work travel, my 30th birthday, and being dumped by my boyfriend. In that order. It was an eventful laziness.

Needless to say, none of these events were all that fantastic (well, with the exception of my birthday), but the breakup really takes the Crap Crown. It didn’t exactly come out of nowhere – we were having some difficulties, for sure – but I still didn’t expect it. I thought we were having a hard time that we would work through; he thought it was the beginning of the end and decided not to prolong the inevitable. Just rip it off quick, like a Band-Aid. Like a ripped-off Band-Aid that took a clump of arm hair and some skin off with it.

Honestly, there is nothing I can write about being heartbroken that hasn’t been written a hundred million billion times before. Having your heart broken is like having a dream – it’s happened to everyone and not really interesting to anyone else unless they were one of the main characters involved. I’m sad and I miss him; I’m angry because I tried so hard to make the relationship work and had no control over its ending; I’m glad to not have to deal with all of the troubles we had anymore but still miss the good bits.

Overall, it’s been OK – rather than collapsing in on myself like I had with past breakups, this one has been more constructive. I’ve been working on putting together a group date with all the awesome ladies I kinda know, but want to be friends with, I immediately rearranged and deep-cleaned my living room (shoving around a gigantic couch across the room a couple times is pretty damn cathartic), signed up for a new gym down the street that focuses on more one-on-one training. The things I’ve been wanting to do, but didn’t. There is a melancholy sense of freedom now: I can do whatever I want because I don’t have any ties to anyone else. Sometimes the thought makes me excited for what can happen, other times it takes all the wind out of me to think of what will never happen again. It sucks and it’s hard.

But, it will be OK.


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