You know, when she left I think I really accepted the situation well. I follow a life philosophy of not building expectations and living the present moment, two principles which may sound tacky but make an unbelievable difference when applied to situations like this. I had been extremely happy for four years, after all, and I’d enjoyed every little moment of a fun, creative relationship. So again, when it ended, I felt mostly joy and a sense of achievement, simultaneously with the surprise and sadness. I knew why she was leaving. I simply made sure this had been given proper thought and wished her well.
I had a stripped-down house on my hands and a tight construction project to manage. I had a full-time job in the meantime and not a minute to myself. I was challenged, on edge, tired and needed, most of all, to stay focused.
I’d also lived through moments like this before in my life; I knew I can be happy alone. I know the lifestyle, the pros and cons. I mostly like it.
As construction was ending, I had vacation projects, plenty of awesome friends around me, a brand new house to enjoy living in. I picked up running again. I took a project manager position at work, which brought a welcome change. I went to the movies, ate in restaurants, enjoyed Montreal. Fall came late so I even had the impression of not completely losing my summer over a house makeover and my marriage’s surprise-ending.
Romance-wise, I met just enough interesting people to be reassured there are, in fact, plenty of fish... And the little thrills of dating aren’t that bad, either. Among the unavoidable load of over-the-top desperate thirty-somethings I’ve crossed paths with, I mostly spent enjoyable time with stable, pleasant, interesting young women with a life and stories of their own.
Now, it seems life is testing me. The weeks have turned into months. Seasons have changed, not for the better. No one feels like going out. Plans get canned left and right; the cuddle-together-on-the-couch season is peaking, rubbing on my frozen nose the fact that I have no one in my life.
The previous excitement of my new life has become life, period. It’s the dead of winter, everything’s frozen, still, lifeless, dirty. I’m cold all the time. “Outside” is now a harsh, inhospitable concept keeping me away from BBQs, runs on the mountain, aimless wandering, cigars with friends, terraces, motorcycle travel. It’s waning my will for adventure. Drains my life force.
The weight of the multiple layers of clothing I have to wear adds up everyday, like falling snow in Maryland. And the weight of the multiple thoughts about my life and where it’s going are doing the same.
I think I’m depressed.