So it’s done. I am officially single and living on my own for what is basically the first time in my life. And when I say alone, I of course mean with my little one.
My apartment is wonderful. It’s big (living room, dining room, and two full bedrooms), conveniently located to everywhere I need to go, and beautiful. I’ve been working hard on setting everything up, settling in, and making it feel like home. It is well on its way. Darwin has his own bedroom with a bed and everything and he’s so excited that it’s just amazing. He loves the fact that he has his very own bed to jump on. It’s awesome.
You’d think that I’d be an emotional disaster right now, but I’m not. I am sitting in wait for the sadness to come, but it sure as hell isn’t here yet. For right now I am nothing but pleased. I am not lonely, I am relieved. I am not sad, I am content. It’s kind of an amazing place to be, after so long being in turmoil.
I do have to admit that I am also a little embarrassed. For some reason I feel like all my friends are going to judge me harshly, even though they all voiced their support for this move beforehand. For some reason I feel like they’re going to treat me as if in theory it was a good idea but in practice it’ll simply strain everything with everyone I know. For this reason I asked for almost no help moving, and haven’t really talked to anybody in the last week. Perhaps I should give everybody the benefit of the doubt and actually call them.
Come and visit. Come see my new house. I’ll cook you dinner and keep you entertained.