In love. Married. Out of Love. Divorced : Now what?

How is it that a 21 year old is capable of making a serious life choice? At 21 you are just figuring out who you are- Do you want to be one of those glassy eyed girls on 'Girls Gone Wild' publicly exhibiting your daddy issues? Do you want to go back to school to further avoid having to go into the real world? Or do you want to join the Peace Corps and live in a Third World country to forever dismiss the problems of people who opted to intern at a thankless large corporation or live off of their parents hard work.

At 21 I moved out of my parents house. While this was a wonderful- timely choice...some things weren't ideal.

My parents were moving to Connecticut from the home I grew up in. Of course they gave me the option to move with them, continue school and be "taken care of"- as I had been for 21+ years. My whole life I had never had a need or want that went unmet. Lucky me. Right? I don't think so. But it's my path, and part of my journey.
So I moved out. I procrastinated and waited until the last minute to find an apartment and a job...but I managed to do it.

Now right before my parents moved and all of this life changing stuff was going on- I met....Lets call him Harry. I won't be using his real name because those of you who know it know it, and those of you who don't know my ex-husbands name don't need to.

Harry and I met on February 18th. Four days after Valentines day. I was disillusioned from having gone on a slew of disappointing dates and having my heart "broken". As I was getting out of the car I grumbled something about calling my mom in an hour  to pick me up because I was certain that this date would be over fast ..My mom replied ominously " you never know, he could be The One".

And he was.

Our first date was fantastic. He walked in 10 minutes late, with a gigantic bouquet of flowers- and a smile from ear to ear. Years later he told me it was in that instant that he knew he was meeting his future wife. Sweet right?

That first date led to a wonderful second and third date...which lead to an excellent relationship.

How does this have anything to do with my moving out of my parents house?

Here's how.

I moved from a place where I was never alone, and I was completely taken care of.
Moving out required me to work. A LOT. To make ends meet. And even then it was rough, I did a pretty good job. Except I had help. Harry would "lend" me money if I was short a few bucks. Or when I was lonely, he was there. Or if I needed help with anything he was there. We were always at one anothers house. And I don't think that I can recall a time before we were married where we spent more than a night or two apart.Which was so nice- I really liked that part of our time together. And he did too; so much in fact that he suggested that we move in together. It seemed like the only rational step .

So long story short....

I never was a grown up. I never REALLY took care of myself. So when I got married to a man who was practically born an adult, I couldn't do it. My contributions to the relationship, while meaningful and important in their own ways; were not enough to be a good partner. How could I meet the expectations of a person when I didn't know how to be what he had been asking of me? I was not an adult, so I could not reasonably be in adult relationship.

The conclusion was, after a miscarriage, and other moments where reality was harshly presented to us - we realized (on our 5 year wedding anniversary no less) that we were not a good couple anymore. Of course marriage is work. A LOT of work...for the people who are suitably paired up. We had grown apart. Our relationship together as man and wife had run it's course.

So now here I am- sitting in a Starbucks. Writing a blog about how my marriage, the family I thought I was going to build, with the man that at one point held my universe and happiness in his hands, and the life that I thought was going to be mine is a memory from last year. Like gladiator sandals and bias-cut tube dresses.

Moving forward I've got this whole amazingly exciting life going on.

My apartment is great. It's my space. I love it so much. Things are where I want them to be, how I want them to be. Oddly enough I've become a bit OCD with keeping things neat. Harry would be proud...

Life isn't what I once thought it was going to be. It's helped me a lot that my burgeoning interest in Buddhist philosophy introduced me to the idea and reality of impermanence. Nothing lasts forever (even cold 'November Rain'). So while nothing lasts forever, I'm learning to make the most of each moment, and be appreciative of what I have- because from the experiences I've had this past year, as well as watching the people in Japan, and all over the world recover from disheartening disasters...all we have is now.