Once Upon a Time

About nine months after I got my publishing job and moved to London, I went to a party where I met a man who I thought was perfect. I tore my lovely new life to bits in order to be with him, as there were some quite severe obstacles in the way. I was deleriously happy (with him - the rest of my life was going haywire) for oooh...six months (I know, I know, not long). Then, out of the blue, he tells me I'm too difficult and grumpy and stressed for him to be with, and that it's over.

It's now five months after that and I'm living in a new flat with an old friend. It's Saturday morning, and I'm signing onto Facebook, and there it is. My ex (who we will be calling The Capitalist, given his penchant for accumulating things - stocks, shares, and very expensive bottles of wine) is going out with a girl who he claimed was 'just a colleague' when we were together. This would suggest that all the things he said about how difficult I'd become were just so much rubbish; really, I was being left for an easier option.

This morning, I felt like I could let out a breath I'd been holding for months. A weight had been lifted off my chest. Perhaps the greatest heartbreak I'd ever had (and I've had a fair few) had come and gone, and I'd survived. More than that, it wasn't my fault it happened. If I can get through that, then I can do anything. I'm kind of excited to find out what that's going to look like.