For the first time in 33 years, I’m about to be completely on my own. It’s such an exciting time in my life. I think it’s something I’ve always wanted, yet I’m scared outta my fucking mind! Adulting with another adult is hard enough! How the hell do I do it by myself? Perhaps it’ll be easier because I’m not responsible for anyone else. But that seems a selfish way of thinking after a very, very LTR!
The Ex and I pretty much started our relationship on the day we met…which will be 12 years ago this month. However, I have no idea on which day our relationship ended. I suppose the last official day will be April 30, 2017 when our lease is up. Yes, you read that correctly. I am living in a shitty, broke down, roach-infested box…With. The. Ex! I have deemed this studio apartment the Pigeon Hole. The view out the only window is a brick wall of the neighboring residence which forms a nasty little alcove with the brick wall of my residence. In this alcove, pigeons like to coo. Pigeons like to shit. Pigeons like to fuck. And they’re noisy fuckers.
So how the hell did I get conned into moving into a crappy, confined Pigeon Hole with The Ex? Because you don’t just throw away 11 years (at that time), right? He’d provided for me. And now he was out of a job for the first time ever. But I was just starting my first full time job; I couldn’t support us both living in the one bedroom that we’d been in for 7 years. And so we were kicked out and forced to find the Pigeon Hole.
So why did it end after more than a decade? That’s an answer I have to be careful in formulating over the course of the coming weeks. I don’t want to be unfair to The Ex. We may despise each other now, but I have respect for him still. However, I promised myself I’d be honest to the 5 people reading this and to myself. So how did it end? Essentially the answer may be that we were doomed from the start like some Shakespeare shit…