A Month Apart

It's been four weeks since I've moved out of the house we shared and relocated to a town about ninety miles away. It was a rapid disconnection.

I would say there was an initial "honeymoon" phase of our separation, or at least in my experience of the separation. Since then it's come back to earth. I've been quite solitary, a bit bereft, somewhat morose. Depressed.

I've been fortunate to strike up some friendships with neighbors around my new quarters. I was welcomed to a Game Night, to a local arts show, to a fund-raising steak cookout. I've managed to spend some time with friends from my life before the breakup.

That's how I'm measuring time now. I've referred to eras such as Grade School, High School, the Navy, when I lived in Virginia, when I lived in Pennsylvania. My new era is Post-Separation.

I feel too old to be in this situation: uncertain of where I'll be living in 60 days, without having somebody else who had my back - even if the relationship was problematic. Tremendous uncertainty. Not knowing what to do next. Actually, I'm trying to slow down my 'what do I do next' impulse and not barge into a subsequent mishmash.

But I feel really fucked up.