Tuesday, July 28, 2015

And I ran.

I’ve spent weeks trying to think of a clever intro for this post. I’ll sit down to write, but then it reads like one of those pay-to-publish novels by people that can’t stop talking about themselves even when everyone has stopped reading.

So anyway, let me tell you about what’s been bothering me lately.

The thought of having a boyfriend makes me ill. It makes me want to just run away. If I get a text from a guy that implies anything more than friendship, I can’t stop thinking about dropping my phone and just running away from it. Literally.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful. (Though we all know I’m pretty misanthropic so there’s always a hint of general disdain for mankind in my actions. It’s what makes me, me.) Still, it’s flattering that anyone would volunteer to spend any amount of time with me.  I think it’s sweet when friends or coworkers or people I’ve spoken with once tell me they know the perfect guy for me. It’s a compliment that someone thinks enough of me to not only set me up with a friend of theirs, but also wants to see me happy.

Which is where the disconnect is. I’m not unhappy. I’m actually very happy with my life right now. For the first time in nearly ten years I’m on my own, and can do whatever I want. Yes, I sometimes miss my husband. Yes, divorce is hard and it’s hard to see the future I had planned falling apart. There are still a lot of those moments when it’s difficult to cope.

But there are so many great moments, and as time goes on those happy moods are more and more frequent. I love that I can spend time with friends, take a day trip, or just do nothing. I’m not being held accountable to anyone else. I’m responsible for and own my own life, all the good and bad things about it.

I’m just not keen on letting someone else into my space, and that’s okay. I don’t need someone there constantly asking what we’re doing. Someone that I have to consider with any decision I make. Or someone that’ll come over to my house and mess with my Netflix queue. It takes time to really personalize it!

It’s fun to flirt and chat with people, sure. But at the end of the day I really like going home alone. I’m a firm believer in learning to be happy with me before I even try to be happy with someone else. I want to be comfortable with who I am, so that if I ever start dating it’ll be with someone I want in my life instead of someone I need in my life. I want to be able to share that happiness and not depend on someone else for it.

Plus, I want to order whatever kind of pizza I want. The only ones I’m sharing with are the dogs, and they aren’t picky.


  1. Your pizza comment struck a cord with me. Dammit, I like extra-crunchy peanut butter, not the smooth kind. I too am going through a divorce and find it to be a bittersweet experience. It is ironic that we still love each other as much as ever but circumstances with her children (it's him or us) mandate our separation. While I often miss the companionship, I now enjoy opportunities that would have passed me by. For the first time I have season tickets for Gamecock football; I attended a Paul McCartney concert. My walls at home are decorated with artwork of my choosing. Now my time away from work are my own. At the risk of sounding conceited (I'm not) I like myself and being alone is not a burden. As old as I now am (older than dirt) it is almost a certainty that I will ever live alone. I'm OK with that.

    1. That's great! And yes, I know that feeling. It's not to saw your marriage was a bad experience at all, just that being alone isn't bad either. Also, I can totally relate to the peanut butter thing. I haven't bought creamy peanut butter since he moved out.