Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Home Alone

As I sit here in my 912 square foot apartment, sipping a glass of Apothic Red and munching on cheddar cheese Bugles, I stop, sigh and take in the silence. 
It's quiet.
The only sound is the ratlle and hum of the air conditioning unit and furnace tucked inside the utility closet of my one bedroom apartment. 
Zoe, my dog, sits at the foot of my chaise, waiting for me to show her a bit of attention. 
I moved into this apartment last August after a purposeful and well thought-out decision to leave my second husband. 
This is a topic and future blog post to be written after the divorce is finalized. 
There are so many things that I want to share with you all, but most importantly, I want you to know that I AM BACK! 
Somewhere over the last three or four years, I lost myself.  It's not a good feeling. For someone who has been pretty much an outspoken, free-spirited and independent woman, I was lost. 
Trapped in the Matrix.
In the Sunken Place. 
In the process of losing myself, I also lost my blog. 
Seven years of writing. 
Hundreds of posts. 
Gone. 
In a moment of emotion and helplessness, I deleted seven years in an effort to keep the peace. 
I no longer live in my hometown. I am in a new city. A new world. Quite different than anything I have experienced in my lifetime. In a 912 square foot apartment.
It's my new home. 
For now. 
Shortly after moving in and getting situated, it dawned on me - this is the FIRST TIME in my life that I have EVER lived alone!
I have always been somebody's mother or wife, giving birth to my oldest son when I was nineteen years old, getting married, divorced, raising two boys, and getting married again. I have never had a place to myself.  The boys going off to the military or college doesn't count because they were home on leave, breaks and moving home two or  three times afterwards. 
My cousin, Dee, a single mother with two adult children still at home, asked with wonderment and  longing, what it was like to finally live alone. I couldn't find the proper adjective, but told her that I can come home and find my house exactly as I left it, with the exception of Zoe's toys scattered throughout. 
It's MY mess! If I don't want to make my bed, I don't have to. 
I walk around my apartment in my underwear a LOT.  
If I left a drinking glass on the island, I know that It's my glass. 
If I am thinking all day about that leftover macaroni and cheese and can't wait to get home from work to eat it, I know It's still there in my refrigerator waiting for me. I'm not coming home to the empty casserole dish in the sink that couldn't find it's way to the dishwasher and I am not hearing, "oh... I'm sorry,  I didn't know you wanted anymore."
"YEEESSSS," Dee cried out. "YEEESSSS!"
I pictured her waving her hand as if the pastor just preached the word to her and touched her soul! 
I am enjoying this new chapter of my life and will share more of it with you as time allows. 
In the meantime, I'm back and so happy to be on the road to self-discovery! 
Here's to the Single Mom Saga - The Reboot!

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