Breaking up is hard to do

This day a week ago my boyfriend of almost four years parted ways. In the briefest of conversations he went from being the person I tell everything to being someone I may never speak to again.  That's not to suggest the end of our relationship came as a shock to either of us. It lay lingering in the air unsaid and the magic relationship fairy seemed to be taking her sweet time waving her magic wand over all the cracks in the relationship so the words were said and once out there couldn't be taken back and just like that we weren't a couple any more.

Breaking up is a much messier affair when you live together because while you are deciding what to do next, you also have to decide where to go next. This is one of those times where my anxiety actually helped me out. I had spent months worrying about this obsessively and the only thing that calmed me was planning what to do in a worst case scenario. When I  was faced with the reality of the end of us, I found myself prepared.

First I had to stop crying so hard that I couldn't breathe and then I gave myself room to plan. I realised as I headed to work on 4 hours sleep that we couldn't both stay in the apartment while we found somewhere new to live and for my own sanity I had to get out. I got through the day at work on adrenaline and sheer determination to not cry in front of my colleagues. I thought I was coping remarkably well but I think it was shock and lack of sleep. That night I got home and started to pack.  By the time exhaustion kicked in I had packed 3/4 of my things. Another broken nights sleep followed.

The next day I told the landlord and burst into tears which was uncomfortable for everyone. I closed some accounts and threw out an unbelievable amount of stuff. I fit everything I owned into bags and then helped my dad load up his car so that all the stuff I wont need until I find my Kilkenny home can stay in my parents holiday rental in wexford. Leaving only my stuff for clonmel in the apartment I got into my car and practised my multi tasking skills of crying and driving the whole way  to wexford ( I wouldn't recommend it) but I will admit I was very foolish to think I could go through a break up with just one night of tears. I kept my sunglasses on to give the illusion that I really hadnt been doing a phenomenal amount of crying but fooled no one but myself. I got through the day and before I knew it was Thursday and I  was putting off returning to my apartment for the final time. I couldn't put it off indefinitely because I was working all weekend. I packed the last of my belongings into the car and handed back my keys and then said goodbye to Waterford, my home of the last 11 years, all without completely falling apart.

Now here I am living in my parents house just far enough out of town for my mobile network to forget I exist. Im living out of a suitcase because I haven't sorted out proper storage for my clothes and trying to remind myself that this is real. This is where I live now. Naturally at 35 I dont intend to live with my parents for long. Im looking for somewhere in kilkenny and hopefully won't be looking too long. Mostly though I'm just trying to keep it all together. Which isn't easy when you're nursing a broken heart.



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