Six months.

I paused, knowing the words now were the big ones. The ones I never wanted to say. I didn’t have the words for just a moment as I looked at his face, the nose I loved to kiss, the stubble he loved to scratch me with while I laughed and swatted him away. The face I saw in my future, the face I saw in forever. The person who I’d grown with, fought with, loved and loved and loved for so long. This was supposed to be a happy ending. I knew it was supposed to be a happy ending. Or maybe now it was going to be a happy ending. I looked at him, took a deep breath and took a giant leap.

“I think we need to call time on this.”

I woke up this morning to a very funny and cute text, a great way to start off what was always going to be an interesting day. “Happy Anniversary!!” followed by a million emojis made me smile, a funny morning greeting for a seemingly random Thursday. No celebrations are planned for this anniversary, save for perhaps some extra drinks this weekend with the Nickname Posse, because it’s not an anniversary for anyone but me: A very happy six months, single LB.

About a month ago in my emotional rut, I was dissatisfied and unsure why. I don’t know if I think in prose when things get confusing or if I’ve crossed into the crazy of thinking in blog posts, but at one point I had so many words swirling around in my head, work, play, present, past, future, that I just needed to get them out, put them in a post that I will never publicize and something that no one else will ever read. It took me a few hours to get everything out that rainy afternoon, but eventually I stepped back and sighed, relieving my brain of the burden of carrying those words around for such a long time. Tucked away in a secret location is the story of the break-up from my perspective, pouring out all the emotions of that week, all the memories of that night, everything from what I said, to what I wore, to what it felt like to walk away. I’ll never share that story, save for those few words above: a reminder that things don’t always go our way, and sometimes you have to let go.

In the past six months, I have: redecorated my apartment, changed jobs, revamped most of my wardrobe, gotten a new tattoo, dyed my hair twice, spent too much money on too many drinks, met a wide net of interesting people, made a wide bevvy of poor decisions, been on a few first dates and even a few second dates, and started this blog. I’ve been at emotional highs and lows, traveled all around the city and weeded down a network of good friends into the most incredible people I am privileged to have in my life. And I’ve learned to be okay with just me, because as it turns out, I’m a pretty okay person on my own.

So Happy Anniversary, single me. Here’s to enjoying our time together, for however long it may last.

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