I broke up with my girlfriend, and I loved her very much.
We tried so hard. Left everything on the field.
We wanted it to. So as a something, I was spit back into the wilderness of singledom.
I would joke darkly with friends that it would have been easier if things had ended because one of us had cheated. I had depended on things. I had depended on her depending on things.
Assembled correctly, that balance is the elegance of a relationship. But when I first hit the market again, the teeth of my gears were spinning aimlessly.
I had pizza four meals in a row. I wore my underwear inside out to avoid laundry. Yet after a five-year hiatus, singledom had new layers. I realized I missed having someone know how much I love macaroni and cheese or fly-fishing. I had trouble with the get-to-know-you questions.
I had covered them for five years, but I also saw them differently. Now I just want someone curious.