Writing from the public library that is WAY cooler than my upstairs room, which despite a fan and a window AC unit on top of the normal AC is freaking hotter than hot. Well, it is bearable but not as cool as the library. I actually live a few blocks farther from it now than I did before, but I think living with roommates forces me to want to go out of the house rather than enclose myself like in the old place. I hear everyone else going and having their days, and I want one, too! That means I've been hitting the gym, riding my bike in the heat, and getting shit for work done.
In the middle of all of this, I find myself in this weird transition with how to talk about SCL. I had gotten so used to saying "we," which didn't stop much during the short break-up. It's hard now to forget the "we" and start saying "me" (actually it would be "I" but "I" does not rhyme with "we" so I shall say "me" instead.) For example, I was talking to my roommate G about my 4th when SCL and I went up to our old building to watch the Capitol fireworks. Shit, did he notice the "our"? Would he know that we just moved out of an apartment together?
The thing is, I don't want anyone I meet now to even know that SCL and I were living together. I'd be content with them just thinking we are a cute couple living a few blocks away from each other, happy and in love and normal. Why complicate things by saying "our" or "we," a red flag denoting some kind of tension in our relationship? I'd rather not be reminded of it myself, quite frankly.
I will say it has taken me hardly any time to get used to having my own space, my own room, and my own bathroom. Oh, how I love having my own bathroom. Only one other year in my life have I had my own bathroom, and I had forgotten how nice it is to have everything the way I like it--clean, organized, and full of amazing bath products. I even made sure to pick out all pretty, complementary bottles to use in the shower. I do not miss SCL's stubble in the sink or other grossness that I do not need to describe here. You know what I'm talking about.
I do miss the daily company of SCL--making coffee, talking about the front page of the NYT, sharing that state of sleepiness before going to bed. I do miss the quantity time. I do. But I am anxious to see how this change forces me into myself. I cannot depend on him to be my life anymore. God, I feel like an idiot for even admitting that, but somehow I did allow SCL to become my world and have him be the thing I orbed around. Now without that option, I am having to look at my life and myself in a new way--reclaim the me in my life.
This sounds awfully poetic as I'm writing it, but actually it's just a matter of saying to myself, "Hey self, let's get out of the house and do some shit."