'One whole year'.

One whole year ago, I was left. Left, but right. 

Today I sit here, in the peaceful writing space at 7:34am, the same place I was at 8-something-pm (I won't check the timing of the text) when I was invited out for a drink with my fellow writer workshoppers, and was told to come home. I have a wholesome montage Instagram reel saved in my drafts, about how I've been on a *sparkle emoji* journey, to be posted at 5pm ideally, and set to the song I told him I wanted to use for our First Dance. He rolled his eyes, and agreed. Until he didn't. Funnily enough, after a year of drinking exclusively from my own pink keep cup, I have the one I bought him beside me on the desk. The tall, airtight (yet leaky) yellow one I don't enjoy sipping from as much. I could have washed mine, it was by the sink this morning after yesterday's adventures, but I thought 'nah' and took this one from the cupboard. As my hand closed around it, in amongst all the precariously balanced colourful ceramics and insulated glassware, I realised. I decided to lean into it. Over the edge of the cup. 

that's me, in my new home.

What have I done, since then? The big things are obvious and overdone; bought a home of my own, travelled to New York City all alone, attended open-minded events, explored my sexuality and overall identity, written almost half a book, told a story at a local event, made new connections and been on exciting dates, adopted a cat (I haven't told social media about that one yet, oh how exciting), blossomed in my new role at Bubbles HQ, gone viral once or twice while airing out my dirty laundry, lost some weight, grown my hair longer than it's ever been before, and got a dozen or so new tattoos. 

What else, though? What's happened that may not seem as huge, and can't be captured in a romantic self-love montage? Well, I've continued my work in therapy, quietly revived my blog, found joy in friends' life milestones and achievements, fallen back in love with my body, stopped trying too hard to go to the gym if I don't feel inspired to do so, but mostly kept up my streak of 12k steps per day... I've started shopping at a new supermarket, the nearest one to my new place. It's not too bad. I've more than doubled my body count. I've lost friends, and come to love the existing ones even harder. I stopped relying on one person, but allowed others to help. I have let myself love children more. I've learned how to top up a gas meter with a card. I've got into gardening. 

There's so much more I've probably forgotten or not even noticed, and lots more to come. I'll never say thank you, or feel any gratitude for what he did, for the way I was left and the pain it caused me, but I sure am glad not to be pretending to care about tech reviews, gym brands, rich daddy issues, that pretentious political radio station, talentless sleazy podcasters, children's anime, monotonous vapid YouTubers or digital chess games any more. 

Thanks for reading,

G. x