So, as a soon-to-be divorcee, I made myself some rules. Some are very healthy, and some like "eat whatever I want for 2-3 weeks" are probably not. However, one was to make attainable goals. I'm not going to proclaim that I will sail around the Horn of Africa by year's end, but I think, for instance, making myself blog and write more are achievable things. I would also like to restart my guitar lessons. I bought a guitar off Craig's List in Philadelphia, Pa., before Craig's List was used to murder people. I did let my roommate know where I would be in case I didn't show up in a reasonable amount of time. End result: super cool guitar; no murder...yay.
I find myself with a mixture of emotions. I'm sad that my marriage didn't work out, but I also feel a rush of relief at not having to feel responsible for another person's well-being and happiness. Don't get me wrong, I still love my husband and care what happens to him and worry about his health, but it's oddly liberating to no longer have a day-to-day connection or stress about how to get back to that daily connection when things are not looking so good.
I will say this: I no longer have to worry about snoring, which I do...loudly. Sure, it makes my throat feel like shredded meat every morning, but I don't have to be concerned that I kept someone awake. Conversely, I don't have to do a target search for earplugs to keep from hearing someone else snore, and I can thrash around and hog the bed and sleep however makes me comfortable. Apparently, I've been told I did that anyway during my marriage, at times screaming with nightmares and once slapping my husband in the face in my sleep...Eh...it all worked out in the end, and I promise I have no recollection of any of these things, and I'll swear on a Bible if you push the issue.
Another sort of perk of living alone: I can make meals at my whims and buy the groceries I like. I'm not discounting the compromise you go through when living with a partner/spouse, but one night, I seriously had a banana, some Havarti cheese, and peanut butter for dinner. You can't do that when you're married. I subscribed to recipe websites, had food magazine subscriptions, if I was home in time to make dinner, I made elaborate dinners. You can't really do that when you're just cooking for yourself. I mean, you can, but if you make lasagna, you are eating lasagna for a week, and no one likes lasagna that much, not even Garfield.
I guess my point is, you just learn as you go and do what makes you happy. I am so far removed from the thought of dating, which is good, since I'm not officially divorced, but I honestly cannot even imagine a scenario where I want to date. I hate dating, and people, not just men, are so stupid, and I've reached an age where my tolerance is on the low level, I just don't know how that will work. I have a lot of respect for people who have found a life-long happiness in their second or subsequent marriages. I have assumed the role of cranky bitch who finds every aspect of romance/love/intimacy to be a fallacy. But other than that, I feel just fine. The 2/$10 Rex Goliath wine special at Winn-Dixie is my personal hero.
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