The Mo(u)rning After.

“Everything ends badly, otherwise, it wouldn’t end” – Tom Cruise, Cocktail

Break-ups were never devised to be easy. If they were, everyone would be doing it. Sometimes, the notion of not wanting to rock the boat is enough to keep it afloat – at least for a little while longer. It is no secret that I was in an almost 4 year relationship, which ended 1.5 years ago. Now… relative theory argues that a year and a half is a pretty long time. And yet, there’s still fall out. Fall down. Fall apart. Popular saying dictates that it usually takes half the length of time of the relationship to “get over” someone/the situation. That would essentially expands my 4 year relationship into 6 years. 6 years! 6 years of what could possibly be the remainder of my child-bearing years. So here are my pitiful thoughts on the matter.

☞ All the King’s Horses

I learnt that when something is dead, bury it or it’ll just stink up the place. I had attempted a trial break-up a few months before the actual decapitation but caved on the now internally famed theory, “What if I’m wrong?”. Turns out, I wasn’t – and we were probably not the right people for each other. That’s right. Probably. Would you throw out a sofa that was comfortable enough simply because it wasn’t the right colour and threw off the design of the room? A lot of people wouldn’t. I guess I’m a different kind.

☞ Boomerang Child

Moving back home with my parents was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my adult life (and this includes the extraction of all 4 wisdom teeth at once). It is emasculating, not to mention space deficient. I had to pack a household worth of life and move it into a single room. The first weekend I went out, my mother texted me at 3am, “Where are you? It’s so late!”. We’ve since ironed out our tenant/landlord arrangements and things are going pretty smoothly. It’s still a little hard to swallow telling someone that I live at home with my parents but I think I’ve just got to get over it. The primary reason for me still staying there (although sometimes I feel my lifestyle has worn out its welcome) is Dolce – whom I couldn’t bear to leave at home alone for more than 8 hours per workday. The sacrifices of the single mother!

☞ Baby Momma

Let me prefix this by saying, Yes, I am one of those loony people who treats their dogs like their children. Call it a latent maternal instinct that still wants to go out and party and enjoy having personal time and space. Dolce was one of our shared responsibilities, he did the baths, mountain climbing, rough play and knew about ticks and fleas. I did the cuddling, diet and dressing up (the good stuff). As the sole caretaker now, I have to be in charge of all the vet visits, grooming sessions, weight loss programme, beach runs, park walks, socialising, playtime, Frontlining, skincare, etc… This on top of the cuddling and love sessions we have every evening when I get home. I love her to bits and thankfully, everyone else at home does at well. This is the biggest blessing I have in my life right now (holy shit, did I use the word “blessing”?) – that my dog loves and is loved by everyone at home – even my father (they watch TV together every afternoon…)

☞ Back in the Saddle Again

Considering it had been 4 years since I was in the market (like meat), my first few weeks out were jittery, encountering complete idiots and me, trying to remember that I was actually single. One of the first few guys who tried to have a conversation with me asked me these questions, one after the other, “How old are you? Can you cook?”

My first kiss, post break-up, came 3 months (yes, I’m a slow mover), was completely unexpected and caused me to have tears in my eyes after (not that it was a bad kiss or anything). Since then, I’d like to think I’m much entrenched in the dating world – as for moving into a relationship, I definitely know I am not ready for one (the other person notwithstanding), mostly because my formula for a relationship is still based on being live-in. Considering that my ex and I had moved in 3 months after dating, I should probably play it cooler the next time round.

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I have encountered 2 camps of people’s opinions on this break-up. One group thought I was nuts and the other think I’m brave for being able to make and execute such a decision instead of sticking to a relationship which wasn’t as happy anymore. I think I am both.

It’s taken me more than a year to truly be able to answer the question, “Why did I do this?”. In the beginning, I was full of Watergate answers: “He wasn’t motivated” “It’s just not working out anymore” “We want different things in life” “Just a small town boy, just a city girl”. After a year, the simplest line stands through and may not be the prettiest thing to hear or to say.

I didn’t love him enough for forever, but I loved him enough to let him go.

I still feel remorse from the fall-out of what I have done, the decision I single-handedly made and I hope that at the end of it all, our lives are better off from this decision. It’s just a drop of water in the sea of life decisions but hopefully, the ripples settle down soon enough. And because sometimes pop music says it best, here’s Kelly Clarkson’s “Already Gone”.

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