Tonight is the second night of me « living alone ». Really alone. No roommates or housemates, or anything. It’s just poor old Benji and myself (thankfully he’s a complete suck, so I don’t need to wait too long to get in my daily cuddles).
I waved goodbye to my dad at the bus terminal yesterday, as he was off to Montreal for his flight to Istanbul. I seem to have nerves of steel, having kept a smile plastered on my face until the bus turned on the corner, out of sight. It gave away right after though as I burst into tears, sobbing as made my way up the streets to the bus stop. Thinking back now, I was such a complete baby about it, barely being able to keep my lips from quivering. Arriving home was as much a relief as it was an emotional breakdown. I was able to satisfy my need to cry out my body’s weight in tears (what a miraculous weight loss that would’ve been) but of course the whole reason for my distress was coming in without seeing my dad looking up from my iPad (most likely alternating between Candy Crush and Chess) or his suitcase lying on the middle of the floor. I realized that this was what I was to come home to from here on then.
It makes sense. Yesterday was initiation day. It was overwhelming and dreadful. All I could think about was how we both worked together to make this little apartment a home. His grin as I would make a joke about Mom or the big warm hug he would give me before I would leave the house. Shop therapy worked though as I made a quick run to Forever 21 and cleaning definitely helped me to process. Before I knew it, my boyfriend came over (with a bottle of Jackson Triggs I might add) and our little movie night calmed my nerves so much, that I slept like a baby as soon as he left. It was today that I woke up realizing that today was the everyday day. It was what I was going to have to make into a routine. Truth be told, I was surprisingly productive with my day. Even as I sit here, typing this (and silently cursing at how much I’ll have to correct in the morning) I feel this… not relief exactly, but acceptance of the situation. I think it’s going to take a lot to get used to, but I’m not afraid anymore. I think I can.