Five months after leaving my home and relationship, I finally unpacked the last few items from my car (a set of screwdrivers, a couple of socks, a coffee mug) and placed new photos in frames which have stood empty. Just because you know a decision is the right one doesn’t make it easy. Over these last few months, I’ve felt like I was limping around with an injured limb and constantly telling myself, “Keep your head up.”
I’ve been through a difficult break-up before, but we were younger and I had friends nearby to rely on – to house me, and listen while I cried, to take me out for gin and tonics and eat Thai take-out by the ocean. And it was a relatively clean break, that one. It was acute and severely painful to my young heart, but also fairly simple.
At thirty, with a house and an engagement, two dogs, a cat, and seemingly innumerable bills (not to mention the intangible things, like hopes for the future, ideas about love, etc. ) – this break-up seems more like chronic pain, ongoing and deep. It really, really sucks.
It makes me feel old. It makes me feel like I should have known better.
It’s like when I fell on my first tumbling pass in gymnastics, during a floor routine. A graceful, expectant start and then — Ooof. Except, it’s way worse, actually.
I was going to start this new blog and not mention any of this. But every time I read what I wrote, I hated it. It wasn’t honest. I haven’t easily moved on to “fun new adventures.” I’ve clung to these new adventures while hoping to recover and move on and make sense of… myself.
New Mexico is a beautiful place for recovery. Cooking also helps, as does Mesa. The sun helps. Taking weekend road trips helps. And I don’t want to be coy about the fact that I met someone, let’s call him T. And I’m in love and I know it, for the first time maybe ever.
So here are some photos from the last five months, which show beautiful, fun things I’ve experienced – oftentimes with a heavy heart.