I’m single – shockingly single. This journal is not the forum to explain why I left Greg, except perhaps to note enigmatically that the two of us together did not feel as much as a “we” as I wanted.
I’m quite sad for him. I feel guilty. Coming from a conflict-adverse family, I shudder so to harm another, especially someone so wonderful and kind. I’ve grieved and mourned for much of the fall. I worry that he feels abandoned and alone. Sadly, it is his friends – not me – that can support him.
When I broke up with him two years ago – there’s a pattern here – I suffered a six-month breakdown. I couldn’t sleep. Unspoken conversations kept circling above the bed. I blamed my failure at this relationship for failure with all relationships.
The break-up this time feels different. I sleep fine, too much actually. Those conversations do not circle as frantically as I have already said my peace. My head aligned with my heart to move on. I’m quite sad nonetheless for the transition.
I’m withdrawing from the world, but don’t know why. I left the working world. I leave the dating world. I don’t answer phone calls and I rebuff many social invitations. I stay home, exercise outdoors alone, and work on projects. I empathize now with my downstairs neighbors who rarely leave their apartment. Maybe this is the middle-age.
Exhortations for me to slow down and simplify have finally stuck. I slow down. I simplify. I’m free, yet also lonely, tired, and restless. I envision packaging up this apartment so I can wander quite far, physically and mentally.
This has been one hell of a year.