I've signed a lease on a new apartment, where I'll be living alone next month. My wedding ring is on my right hand (I'm waiting until I'm moved out to take it off). I'm sleeping every fourth night. My emotional fragility makes every small kindness a supremely moving gesture. My morning writing time has been reduced to editing, long rants about the state of my marriage, and breakdowns of evenings out with friends.
My friends mean so much to me right now; I can’t believe I ever took them for granted. Knowing how important they are to my happiness, this is a good change.
Exercising more and eating better, this is a good change.
Not taking my ridiculous job so seriously, this is a good change.
Putting work out there for someone other than a friend or a relative, that’s a good change.
I have license right now to do any number of really stupid things, to behave irrationally and lose control and no one would judge me or call my behavior into question. This is a compelling truth.
But the abyss is too deep to dabble in. If I fell, it would be a long time before I hit bottom. It’s ironic that the only reason I’m mature enough to handle the dissolution of my relationship is because it’s been so strong over the years it’s made me who I am.