When I started my blog in 2009 I was genuinely a slummy single mummy, evenings spent at home alone watching Sex and the City, avoiding the dishes wherever possible. Not long after though, I met someone.
That someone became Boyfriend.
“Are you going to change your blog name now?” he asked me at one point, a few months into our relationship.
“No,” I said. “That’s the brand. Sshh.”
I’ve never blogged much about Boyfriend, preferring to keep him secret and special, so much of my life revealed online, but he very quickly became a hugely important part of me and we have been living together for nearly three years.
Today Boyfriend moved out.
We decided that we wanted different things. Clichéd but true? I don’t even know any more. We talked about it so much that I can’t remember whether I was really ever unhappy or whether we’re simply the victims of society making us believe that the only relationship worth having is one in which both parties feel blissfully happy and satisfied at all times. Heaven forbid there be work involved.
What I do know is that I feel gutted – literally empty. I’m in that weird limbo between not wanting to talk about it but at the same time being able to think of nothing else and wanting to tell everyone I see. How can they not tell just from passing me in the street that my heart is broken? How can it be that the world carries on as normal? I mainly say nothing, sometimes doing a brave little smile or sighing loudly.
Unfortunately neither the smiles or the sighs translate well into blog posts or pithy social media updates, so I may be a little quiet for a while.* Sorry about that. I hope that normal service will be resumed soon, in all senses.
*Apart obviously from all the sponsored posts I have scheduled. I need to earn a living after all to pay for all the gin and ice cream I will need to temporarily fill the void.