Home Alone
Single Gal
Ex moved out over the weekend. I returned home from a weekend away to a house that just felt heavy and thick with the memory of him. Ex did his best to erase the lingering traces – removing all his pictures, clothes, and “boy things”- but the fact is that he is still everywhere. The towel he showered with is still on the rack. The thumb tacks he used to dry his paintings are still in the wall. The stain on the carpet from where he spilled his orange juice stuck out like it was fresh and new. His invisible presence is everywhere, marked in a smattering of objects that one month ago, I would probably not have even noticed existed.
I’d always thought that at some point in my life, I would live alone. Perhaps it’s a sense of female empowerment that I felt I should – that perhaps you never really get to “know” yourself until you are left in the quiet of your own head. Maybe, I thought, it’s a test of your bravery to see what you do when you hear a noise in the night, when the dishwasher breaks and you have to react, or when the actually have to break out a ladder or repair a connection. But, I never have lived alone – ever – in my life. And, here I am, in a small, cozy house, sleeping on my same side of the bed, too conditioned after ten years to move to the middle.
For the record, I am not scared of living alone. I am resourceful enough to handle the little glitches that home owning brings (but will continue to curse the Universe for deciding this morning was a great time to have my garage door break). Sure, I’ll need to postpone the horror-movie-watching until the daylight hours. And yes, the chances of me starting up a lawnmower are slim to none. But, I expect this experience will be one about what I CAN do. No more being enabled and no more passing the buck. I’ll dig out the instructions and I’ll build it myself. I’ll drag myself to the Home Depot and talk to the clerk about new shower heads and widget thingies, and, if necessary, I’ll even open the tool shed and use some of these “saws”, “screwdrivers”, and “drills” I’ve been hearing so much about for years.
I can do it. I know I can.
So while I simmer in the quiet of my house, I’ll take in the reminders of all the years around me. Slowly, I’ll pack them away – repair them – until eventually, they will be just a memory and not a physical reminder of what once was. And then, when all of this is done, I’ll turn on the music - really loud- and then I’ll dance. And I’ll be really, really proud of myself.
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Hi singlegal, totally appreciate your blogging. I’ve lived alone after a twelve-year marriage for some time now, in an old house (albeit with a tenant) and I can tell you that things do constantly break. And that it does feel great to tackle these breakages. And that there is nothing wrong with hiring a cute handy man. Nothing at all. Keep writing, girl, and see you on twitter.
For what it’s worth, I’ve been living alone for over a year now and I still sleep on my side of the bed.
If it helps, a lot of us have been there. I see so much of myself in what you wrote here… it’s startling. I’m not sure what else to say.
I am jealous of your situation. I long for the peace and quite of being the only one in my home. I feel as if I have zero privacy, that Ex is getting in my way, annoyed that I need to not only sort out all of my things, but I am sure I will be taking on sorting out all of his things as well.
Feel blessed that your Ex took action, rather then sitting around, as if nothing has changed, waiting for you to do it for him.
Did I get this right, lil’ Sis?
I totally relate to your description of the house full of memories. It is infinitely easier to move to a “new” space, and feel like you’re on a new path, than it is to create a new life in a space filled with memories. Eventually, all will be “yours,” but this will take time. Learning to fix things, and handle foreign objects like tools, is also hard, but extremely empowering. Eventually, you will actually enjoy visiting hardware stores because the stuff is just so useful and cool, and, when you’re ready, it’s a great place to meet men. And if I can start a lawnmower, you can! I’m here for you, as always.