Entry 1 – What the fuck Ains?
It’s my 33rd birthday tomorrow – 3rd May. Felt like a good time to start this. I’m newly single after 9 years of relationship bliss. To say those words out loud feels strange at the least. I have never really done single, not well anyway. Actually I am pretty sure I am a love addict (but then aren’t we all)? To add another 3 to the mix, this marks the 3rd night in the house without my beautiful husband, my best friend, my addiction. I never have been a solo drinker, but this wine seems to be evaporating. My purple teeth suggest I drank it, but it’s not working the way I want it to! Just in case I didn’t feel lonely enough, my internet is being a total asshole. No Netflix for me tonight. Luckily I have Larry David to keep me company. Self-medicating with a ‘Curb your enthusiasm’ box set & cheap red wine. Where did this wine even come from?
Don’t they say if you love someone set them free? 4 weeks ago my husband & I made the seemingly impossible decision to release each other back into the wild. Yes, you did the math correctly, in 4 weeks we have only spent a total of 3 nights apart, we might be the worst broken up couple yet! (Or best)?
I spent the first 2 weeks asking myself “What the fuck Ains?” Actually, as the word spread through our small community, people were asking the same question. I had no idea how to answer it. This is me figuring it all out, & soon I’m gonna fucking own this solo shit! No making decisions out of fear; fear of losing him forever, fear of feeling jealous. God I hate feeling jealous! Shut up dumb pre-menstrual emotions! I am making decisions out of LOVE! & yes, crazy as it may sound, I truly believe breaking up with the man I love is one of those positive love decisions… & so does he. At least for now. Or maybe we’re just crazy?
So this brings me back to “why?” I am married to the best man I have ever met. He’s funny, sensitive, loving, creative. He’s good at everything I’m horrible at (cooking, sticking to plans, writing lists, budgeting, vacuuming, being firm with people). It wasn’t like we weren’t having sex either. In fact the sex got better everyday. This guy gets sexier, improves with age like a fine wine (unlike the one I just spilled all over my white shirt). Actually, it’s annoying how he doesn’t seem to look any older than the day we met. Fuck you hormones, am I right ladies!?! From the minute we met, we were completely addicted to being around each other. 9 years on & we are still obsessed with each other. How many people are lucky enough to say that?
Obviously in every relationship there are problems. 2 completely different humans spending copious amounts of time together, working together, raising each other’s kids together, living on a fluctuating artist income. I think he drinks too much, he thinks I work too much. Of course we had fights. This shit is stressful. Really none of this is the “why?”
So here goes, here’s why I agreed this was a good idea, why I’m feeling almost ok with it… I’m curious to find out what I am capable of without basing my decisions on being someone’s partner for the first time since I was 15 (before then I had my dad passively telling me what to do). I want to try out life without a constant male guidance. Without a voice of reason. Without a “real” perspective on things. Without the limits & restrictions & expectations that come with being someone’s. I am setting my full unpredictable, emotional, energetic, erratic, fearless feminine spirit free. Even if it doesn’t last… for now I am an ocean, ready to flow like Niagara! There’s no containing this. Whatever “this” is… We’ll see. Here I come world!
…Fuck this feels so real all of a sudden! Can we really go through with this? Can we actually remain best friends (with benefits) & work mates? Can we hang out with our kids together as planned & be more than ok? My stomach just leapt up into my throat! I want to wring out this red wine spill into my mouth to make this awful feeling go away. It’s not official until we update our Facebook status right?
Stay tuned for weekly updates…
All my love,
P.S – This is not an invitation for more dick pics.