And being alone is the, is the best way to be.

I am loving living by myself. Sure, my place is the definition of chaos right now (is the state of one’s living space truly a reflection of the state of one's mind?), but even so it’s great to be on my own. And the realization I’ve speedily come to, at which I only could have arrived upon going through with this whole breakup and subsequent move, is that on my own I don’t feel any more alone than I felt when I wasn’t.

That’s telling.

I mean sure I feel lonely sometimes (being so used to always having another person around), but feeling lonely is different than feeling alone. And though it’s difficult to feel lonely when there’s someone else around, I’ve realized that it’s not so difficult to feel alone under those same circumstances. And I did. For a long time. And that sucks. So feeling alone now that I actually am alone, is strangely refreshing. It’s like I’m suddenly justified in the feeling that for so long I was frustrated by.

Another brilliant (read: obvious) realization I’ve come to is that some friends can be counted on and some can’t. And the ones that fall into either camp are not always the ones you expect. I guess I hadn’t realized it, because it’s been a very long time since I’ve had to lean on my friends for anything. (Again, that whole other-person-always-present thing.) So there’s been a good amount of leaning recently, and some have held me up while others have let me fall on my face. Both have value, to be sure. And both groups seem to share the desire to get me as drunk as possible as often as possible. Which I can’t say I mind. You can betray me all you want as long as you’re sticking a drink in my hand while you do it.

And one more obvious (painfully so) realization before I sign off: when you’re “unattached,” hookups are a lot of fun.

Feels like learning to walk all over again.