old apartment this weekend. It feels good to be back in NYC. I don’t belong in CT anymore. Maybe I never did.
As you know, this was my 3rd move in 5 months. Losing everything at once -- my home, the man I loved, and the family we were creating -- was almost unbearable. So there isn't a big enough word to describe the relief I'm feeling right now.
I am home. Finally.
I have my stuff back. Finally!
And I can move on -- FINALLY -- from what has been the worst summer of my life.
It's almost surreal. I feel like I want to swallow my key so no one can take it away from me. And I just might (if I smother it in cheese first).
I lived with my brother, sister-in-law, and niece for 10 weeks. Ironically, that's EXACTLY as long as I lived with my ex-fiance. Hardly seems like any time at all, in the scheme of things, you know?
I know the only way I was able to get through any of this was with their support. Welcoming me into their home without any idea of how long I would need to stay was an incredible gesture that I will never forget. They were there for me in ways I didn't know were even possible. It definitely brought us closer together.
I will miss so many things. Our Sunday family dinners. And watching Sesame Street every morning with my niece. Actually, I won’t miss any of those things because I’ll be back often -- but as a visitor!
Now, I know there’s been some concern over whether coming back to my apt would stir up too many memories, but I’m glad to say it’s no more than usual. And I haven’t cried in 2 days. That’s got to be worth something, right? Plus, the building made some changes -- they removed the doors from my kitchen, changed the kitchen sink faucet, gave me a new peephole, and new blinds. The roof deck is now open. They even paved 2nd ave for me. And I’ve replaced all of my bright red accessories with things that are soothing blue. It’s like a totally different place. So I can totally forget.
Anyway, when I decide to try this relationship thing again -- IF I decide to try this again -- God help the poor guy. Seriously. Aside from my brand-new RAGING trust issues, there are about 50 people he's going to have to assure that he won't break my heart or else they just might break his legs.
Eh. Maybe I'll save everyone the trouble and just become a nun.
But only if I get to keep my apartment.
PS: If you’re wondering what’s up with this picture, it’s Spongebob Squarepants’ home because I’m also thinking of a very special Spongebob fan who turned 8 today. Even though I can’t be a part of her life anymore, I hope she knows I loved her very much and would have absolutely adored being her step-mom. I hope she doesn't miss me at all, but I miss her tons.
PPS: Now that my life is back in order, I can officially look forward and stop looking back. This means no more posts about my breakup or my relationship. You can be the judge of how successful I am at that...
tags: breakup, city life, family