K moved out on December 5th. In many ways I was ready for it, tired of the in between and her growing pile of boxes. In other ways I was surprised by the amount of emotion I felt, at times overwhelming, when I had so naively thought I had moved on. My therapist likened it to repeatedly visiting a terminal patient in the hospital. It is only when the patient dies after months of waiting that you can finally grieve. Ready as I was to move on, there was a shock in coming home that evening and feeling her void like a punch in the gut. My loss was no longer abstract. And I felt a tangible sense of emptiness.
In the days afterward I struggled to fill the space, buying a new rug and moving this here and that there, but the expansion felt strange. I went to parties that I may have not gone to before and met new people outside of my social circle. My outward steps were shaky like that of a toddler. Then again, all of these feelings are rather normal. Just as it’s normal to feel down this time of year, my recent separation all the more acute.
But as I said, I’m moving forward slowly, trying to be mindful of the new life I want to create and the new people I want to meet and the new lovers that I want to invite in. Yesterday I watched the movie Weekend and felt a surge of excitement as I watched the two young protagonists grow increasingly intimate, remembering what it feels like to meet someone and everything is new, from the touch of their skin to personal habits and history. In reconnecting with that feeling, I had a point of reference for my new year ambitions.
I think it took me a while to update this blog, beyond the obvious grief, because I didn’t want this space to be all about loss. I want it to be about adventure and growth, even when the growth is sometimes painful. And so in the new year I’ll endeavor to write more about the new things coming in instead of the old things leaving.