Everything must go!
Reflecting on leaving my life (and most of my belongings) behind
Last week marked exactly two months since I learned – via a brief 10-minute conversation, with no explanation and no warning – that my boyfriend wasn’t in love with me anymore. We were meant to get married this year, then just like that, he was gone and I was single, having just turned 40. I can’t (currently) afford to rent or buy alone, so breaking up also meant losing my home.
This time last year, we were about to celebrate 10 years together, which wasn’t surprising – I thought it would be us against the world until we were old and grey. If you’d told me that 10 months later he’d feel the need to be alone, and I’d move in with my dad in a run-down town that I have no connection to, where I don’t know anyone, I’d have sworn I couldn’t get through it. I wouldn’t believe I had it in me to cope with losing everything at once, not without being medicated up to my eyeballs.
Well, I have coped. You all told me I would, and so far I have.