I was very productive on Sunday, despite being inside all day.
Sundays are meant for catching up on my shows, and not leaving
But instead, I cleaned, and packed up clothes to donate, and even made myself a proper dinner.
Okay, so I watched The Great Gatsby and ate cereal out of a coffee cup before I did any of that.
A friend told me a few years ago that her mother's biggest regret was never living alone.
She moved from her parents' house into a house with her husband.
At the time, I was still living with my ex-boyfriend,
and regretting the decision to move in with him, pretty much every single day.
I had never lived alone.
I never got to pick out curtains, or decide where to hang a picture,
without someone (my mother, him) telling me their opinion about it.
And maybe, to you, that sounds stupid.
But to me -- it drove me insane.
I don't think his belongings were out of the house for 20 minutes,
before I took a paint brush covered in chalkboard paint to part of the wall in my kitchen.
I felt trapped. The entire time I lived with him, I felt trapped.
And being able to paint a wall in my kitchen,
and finally use my mom's old trunk as my coffee table,
without someone telling me it was going to look stupid,
freed me, in a way.
I took a picture of my empty living room,
and sent a Snapchat to some people -- maybe you,
but not with the caption, "lolz, all my furniture is gone"
or, "Where am I supposed to sit and watch TV now?"
But instead with the caption, "Freedom."
Because that's what it was.
I've been living on my own for almost a year,
and while the dishes don't always get done,
(okay, the don't get done a lot) (despite having a dishwasher) (I'm only human)
I'm doing just fine.
I like being home by myself. I like only having to worry about myself.
And if that sounds incredibly selfish, so be it.
I know I needed to this time to myself.
And what's scares me the most now is not being home alone on a Friday,
but opening my life up, and allowing someone to potentially disrupt this progress I have made.
Then I quietly remind myself that the right person will not disrupt anything,
or at least not in a negative way.
I know I'll look back, and be grateful for this time spent by myself.
It's been restorative. And has allowed me to really get to know who I am.
And that, my friends, is another post all together.
One of Kelsey's favorite stories to tell is about her birthday party last year.
If you ask her, she'll tell you that her birthday was my rebirth.
That I showed up to her party a little late (although, I don't think I was!),
and a little flustered. But that I sat down next to her and said,
"Sorry! I kicked him out last night. I need a beer. Where's the waitress?"
And I proceeded to spend the rest of the night laughing,
and making new friends, and overall, truly enjoying myself for the first time,
in a very, very long time.
Standing on the other side of this -- having gone through it all,
being the bad guy, and knowing that people think different of me,
has not been easy. But, and my apologies for this being so cliche,
it's been worth it. So worth it. And in reality, the only choice I had.
Because it was the right one, and I knew that all along.
I turned off the comments on this post for a reason.
I'm not looking for any validation or reassurance,
and I'm certainly not looking for a comment for the sake of a comment.
I wanted to write, just to write.
Not to write to make people laugh.
You can come back tomorrow for that.