So, this weekend I moved into the cottage. It's adorable, and there are cows, and I'm finding that more and more friends are close driving distance away, which I hadn't even realized when I signed the lease. I haven't met the downstairs neighbor yet, but I hear he's a nice guy.
I went to the barn on Friday night and had a lovely trail ride around the property with my boy. It is a special sort of horse who can have two full weeks off and then go for a long solo hack on the buckle outside the ring his first night back. He is taking great care of me these days.
After I rode on Saturday (Tucker is sound!!), I went over to the cottage and swapped keys with the old tenant, and then headed over to meet friends at the local Hard Cider Festival. Picked myself up a Melick's Farm t-shirt so I fit in around town. First night there was a little lonely. I left Sterling (my cat) at my friend Amy's house during the move so he wouldn't run away with the door open, and had no tv or internet, not even a clock radio. Spent most of the night convincing myself that every little noise I heard was the stealth approach of the local ax-murderer. (Turned out to be a beetle pinging against a light bulb, but you can never be sure.)
Sunday I got up bright and early, had coffee with my friend Chrisie, who lent me a stall in her barn to store my things last week, and then headed back to the cottage with my trailer in tow. My awesome, strong, hard-working, loyal, owed-many-beers-now friends met up with me again and we were able to get all my furniture in by 1 pm, and managed not to get rained on. Spent the rest of my day listening to the cows mooing in my backyard and unpacking my kitchen.
Got really close to a nervous breakdown in King's supermarket that night because "Our House" (Crosby Stills & Nash) started playing and I had a flashback to one of the first nights we spent in Ethan's house slow dancing in the kitchen around a plastic folding table. (Oh the irony, it was never "our" house.) Literally had to walk around repeating out loud to myself "you're okay, you're okay," until it was finished playing. So... finally got a chance to be that crazy lady in the grocery store, I'll just take my sushi and my pint of ice cream and go home now.
I took Monday off work, finished unpacking in the morning, went to Walmart for all the random odds and ends I needed (their music selection was much less emotionally jarring), picked up Sterling from Amy's house, got a tiny TV on loan from my mom, went to Comcast, returned my trailer, found another grocery store so I wouldn't be traumatized again, found the liquor store and stocked up on wine. Came home and hooked up the cable and internet, and then cooked myself a delicious dinner. Made one of Ethan's favorite meals, to remind myself that while he may have broken my heart and kicked me out of my home, he doesn't get to eat my home cooking again. Ever. So there's that.
Sterling and I had a nice evening together and I went to bed not sad. I can't really say "happy," but "not sad" is a step in the right direction. I did burst into tears earlier in the day because I found one of Ethan's socks with mine. Took me by surprise. One minute I was mundanely filling my dresser, the next minute I was doing that hyperventilating hysterical crying that feels like it's never going to stop. The thing is that most of the day I'm handling things so well that when something like that reminds me that I'm actually heartbroken, it just catches me off guard. And it hits me like a tidal wave.
And then I feel stupid, because why do I miss someone who said such horrible things to me and decided life would be a whole lot better without me around? And why am I crying over a sock? All in all, I know I am doing really well. My therapist said she was impressed with how I handled everything. I'm not really beating myself up for getting upset. But honestly, a sock? I mean of all the ridiculous things....
I know it's a process. And I know that I've had plenty of relationships end and I've always managed to get through it and move on. I also do believe that I'm better off without him. He's never going to change and become the considerate, caring person I wanted him to be (the person he can be, when he feels like it, but most of the time chooses not to be). There are moments of sheer relief when I realize it's been weeks and no one in my life has been mean to me or hurt my feelings or yelled at me. But there were plenty of good moments too, so I still miss him, and I know that will take time. And I still can't help but try to sort out why it ended. Even though I know that's a dead end and I should focus on moving on. And a lot of the time, I am focused on moving on, and I'm not sad. But here on the blog I don't have to pretend everything is just fine and dandy all the time.
I'm looking forward to riding my now sound and happy horse this week. And I'm looking forward to coming home to the cottage, and hanging art and curtains and adding finishing touches to make it feel like home. I'm making plans and staying busy and eating ice cream and doing all the things you're supposed to do to get through a break-up. I'm going to stay strong.