And it’s pretty damn lonely.
I have so much I
could should be doing, but I just don’t have it in me to do it. I should be unpacking boxes. Decorating. Putting things where they belong. And I have done some of that. But overall, I just can’t bring myself to do it.
Being here makes me sad. It makes me realize where my life is. How different I thought it was going to be at this point.
When I moved in with Mr. Chocolate I thought I’d never move back to this house. I thought other than playing landlord, my time with this house was over. I thought we’d be moving more towards a life together. Possibly renting this house for another year or two before trying to sell it again. Using that money to upgrade our home. Or for a wedding. Or honeymoon.
I thought when I left this house that my life was heading down the road to marriage and a family. I feel like I’ve back pedaled there. I feel like I took 1 giant step forward when I left this house. And I feel like my life has taken about 10 times as many steps backwards since coming back.
And since coming back here, I find myself not just being lonely, but angry. I’m angry at Mr. Chocolate. I’m angry that a year ago I left him because I wanted to settle down with someone and start a family. And he told me he couldn’t give me that life. I’m angry at him for not letting me be then. I’m angry that he came back to me and gave me hope that he did want that. No, I’m sorry, I’m angry that he said he did want that. And better yet, that he wanted that with me. I’m angry that he just woke up one day, or so it seems, and things were over. He claims to have been feeling it for a while, the whole “I can’t give you the life you want” thing. I’m angry that he didn’t talk to me about it first. That he just made our relationship hell for a few days before finally ending things by telling me he didn’t want to be miserable and resent me one day.
I’m angry that after 4 1/2 years he didn’t feel like he could talk to me about things. That he had to decide 100% on his own, push me away as far as possible, and then break my heart. Who does that!? I’m angry that after those 4 1/2 years, talking to each other feels more like a business deal than anything else. “You left this at the house.” “I found this while unpacking.” There’s no emotion. Good, bad, or indifferent. Ok, well lots of indifferent. But nothing. We don’t talk, which also makes me angry, even though I know it is 100% for the best that we don’t. But I don’t understand how just one day, that’s it. Done. Over.
After 4 1/2 years with someone you can walk away. Leave that life.
And more than being angry, I’m scared. Extremely scared. I don’t know how to date anymore. I’ve changed so much since I met him. I don’t know where to find guys my age. I don’t go out anymore. Online dating is a crock of shit. Seriously, I get messages asking me if I like anal (seriously, that’s all the guy said to me) or if I’m interested in a 3-some. Ugh, no fellas, I’m not interested in either of those options. Thank you.
I’m scared that by the time I find someone and do settle down, that it’ll be too late. That my 1 good ovary is going to give up and my chance at a family will have been wasted on someone who didn’t even want a family. Even though they told me they did!!
I thought moving back into my house would be liberating. Would make me feel empowered. But mostly, it makes me angry. Sad. Lonely. It makes me scared for the future. Overwhelmed at all that I have left to do in this house to make it feel like a home.
I’m over it already.