And then..

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And then there is me.

Me.

Myself.

And I.

It’s just over a week, since my ex left this house, this town, this country and me to start a “new life”, back home.

I spent the first few days, unable to drag myself out of bed, crying at every single memory of us within these walls, sobbing like a child in our sheets which still smelt of us, getting angry at life and the world while walking in the streets of this town which once I loved,  keeping my phone off for days to avoid distraction from my own desperation.

But now?

Now, I AM BACK.

I read aloud to myself all my notes of the last 18 months and I found out something so important and enlightening that gave me the strength to get hold of my life once again.

I wasn’t happy.
I was lonely.
I was alone when I most needed you, when my career was falling apart.
You destroyed my trust with revelatory emails. Once. No, at least twice.
“Two more minutes” with me on new year’s eve didn’t matter to you.
You didn’t even bother to wish me happy birthday after I took you to a royal suite in Marrakesh to celebrate.
You broke the promises you made about this house, which YOU choose and wanted so badly.

I decided that this is not what I want for myself.

I want and DESERVE so much more than YOU.

And I am finally

free

and I’m feeling

so good.