It’s been a while since my last post. Lots has happened. I went to London and Dublin by myself and had a great time. But that was because my boyfriend and I broke up after a little more than two years together. To be honest, I am relieved. I am happy. I was sad. But I feel like myself again. I am alive again.

To be honest, our relationship hadn’t been great for at least six months. Maybe a year. I think he’d concur with that, but even if he didn’t, this is how it was for me. I don’t know why I stayed in it for so long. I guess because I know good relationships take work. But this was too much work. We even saw a relationship therapist a couple of times, but it wasn’t working. He was – is – a good person. He has a good heart. He meant well. We just weren’t a good fit. My soulmate: he was not. (And I believe we have multiple soulmates in this life.)

To be honest, I think the election kind of tore us apart. He didn’t vote, but I sure as fuck did. He didn’t like Trump enough to vote for him but he really didn’t like Hillary. He was pro-choice and pro-gay marriage but we differed on basically everything else. I tried to deny that this bothered me, and I got away with it for a while, but now I don’t have to anymore. His politics grossed me out. I was ashamed. Maybe I shouldn’t have been. Maybe I was – and am – overreacting. I don’t know.

So when I say I feel like myself again, I mean that I feel free to have my political opinions again without having to worry that I’ll be verbally berated for them. I mean to say that he liked to argue about things and I didn’t. When he thought he was right, that was it. He was right and nothing I could say would change his mind. The conflict came because I didn’t care enough to debate things with him. I didn’t feel the need to convince him to see things my way. This bothered him because, as I said previously, he liked to argue.

A family member of mine said it perfectly once: Republicans are evil and Democrats are clueless.

This is true. It has always been true.

We took a break, he had a break down, our therapist found him a therapist, and then we met for dinner to formally break up. It was one of the most adult-yist break ups ever. It was civilized. It was basically mutual. He started seeing a professional to sort things out and I was happy for him. He came by my apartment to get his things after. It was sad, but we knew it was the right thing to do.

I went on the trip that we were supposed to take together (to London and Dublin) on my own and I was thrilled about it. Yes, I picked a shitty hotel in London that I then expensively upgraded to a better one once I arrived, and my legs burned from walking in shitty shoes, but I needed that trip. I needed to sort my head out and remember what it was like to be myself again. I kissed an Englishman in Dublin who was on a weekend holiday for his 30th birthday and I began to feel optimistic about dating again as I headed home from Dublin.

I also saw ONCE, which just happened to have a production playing for the summer, in Dublin, too, which was cathartic. I cried.

I started reading “All the Single Ladies” abroad, too, and I’m still reading it. It’s nice to be reminded that being “alone” is better than being in a bad relationship. Refuting marriage and time-consuming relationships isn’t a new idea for women either.

I know I’ll be OK because I already am. I’m considered “alone” only because I’m not tied down to a man, but I love my job, my friends (and family, obviously), and my cats. I have my yoga practice and my teacher, who is 100% there for me. I’m totally looking forward to going to my cousin’s wedding in a week stag and I have a yoga retreat coming up in mid-August that is also going to be amazing (read: free-roaming chickens).

I am going to OZY Fest this weekend and then, perhaps, Meowmania in Brooklyn because I’ll pour money into any event that raises money for cats.

One day at a time. But I know this is the right thing.


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