Going Solo

I thought when my husband moved out I was ready. We have lived apart before. Our relationship was barely civil. Everyone was avoiding each other. He was miserable and so was I. Our son just retreated from us both.

He came by today to grab some musical equipment. Off teaching guitar to our nephew. He hadn’t been showing much interest in playing music (with me, anyway) so I guess it is bittersweet to see. I can feel him pulling away. I know he’s thinking about moving on, more than coming back. I think he’s happier.

And the loneliness is setting in. We just had our 22nd anniversary, so just the thought of starting over seems strange. Being single. Dating? Probably not. Although I get a lot of attention from younger men, and I like that, I am not ready for more than a booty call. I don’t mind being the MILF at the grocery store or wherever, getting a second look or a comment. Even a phone number. Usually I am surprised, flattered and my ego is fed, but I am going through more reality than these kids could ever handle.

Dylan is looking at least four more months of recovery from his surgery. His moods swing, but he’s almost 17. Surprise. We are communicating and our relationship is good, but he’s also not too worried about what Mom is up to. He’s feeling better, recording his music. Meanwhile, I need to find a job with benefits, but I just can’t think right now.  Trying to get used to Stephen not coming in after work is distracting me. I feel kind of numb and sad. I just feel quiet, and ready to cry a lot.

It’s hard to let go of the only life you’ve ever known. I am used to being half of a team, and even though my wedding ring has been off my finger for awhile, I am not embracing the idea of being single. I guess I am just beginning to accept it.