For a moment I thought, “I miss having a spouse-like device to make me coffee on lazy Sundays.”
But then I remembered my coffeemaker can be programmed to start automatically, so I’m going to marry it.
Registry information to come. 💕☕️💍
Via XOJane: When My Boyfriend Moved Out of Our Apartment, it Felt Like Breaking Up Again
I can absolutely understand this. I was the one who moved out, but I still “see” him — just in my brain, in my phone, on highway billboards, songs, TV characters. When I like someone, I see them in a lot of weird places.
Mercifully, I don’t think his brain operates this way, but if he’d moved out and I was alone in “our” apartment, I think I’d have cried even more, hidden even more.
I don’t like my current apartment, and I’m planning to leave it soon. During my brief attempt at therapy, even the doctor said it sounded like “an easy place to be depressed.” Fucked up, right? What, just a couch and a TV and bare, asylum-white walls didn’t make the cover of “Martha Stewart Living?” Fuck you, it’s minimalist!
It IS an easy place to be depressed, and I wallowed and cried and hated myself and made horrible life choices* and cried some more. I keep faltering/getting set back in taking the next steps in getting a new place, but hopefully soon.
* I did buy a new bed, and sheets. If you’re going to be having ill-advised sex and then spending the next day in bed crying about it, you gotta be comfy.
Still funny, though not representative of any of my personal cohabitation experiences: The Pros and Cons of Living with Your Significant Other, via The Oatmeal.
Apparently my default shipping address on Amazon is still my ex’s and my apartment (where he still lives), because that’s where my shipment was delivered. I only realized when I checked the tracking info.
I can easily go get it, and also grab a few other things I left when I moved, but I’m suddenly overwhelmed at the idea of going back there, like I can’t even handle the thought of walking into the apartment.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It was an amicable, mutual breakup. I’ve SEEN him at other friends’ houses since I moved out. We text almost every day just to say hi. I just haven’t been back to “our” apartment, and the idea is making me queasy. Maybe because it’s been 6 months and that’s still the place (and person) I think of when I say “home.” Maybe also because it’s not my apartment to just walk into anymore — I still have a key, but I contacted him to make arrangements first. Because that’s what you do when you require access to a dwelling that’s not yours.
Well, shit. Working out the rationale didn’t help at all.
As a bonus, we discussed it, and now I’m going over there this week and we’re going to have lunch. Hey, awesome. Date with my ex? Sure, why not?
Seriously, a crystal ball that looked ahead just 6 months would be goddamn amazing, just so I can at least see if everything gets less fucked up and confusing than it is right now. I’m 35, aren’t I a little old to be emo?
Smug Singleton 