Lessons from Moving Day

I'm thrilled to be out of the glorified dorm they call Park Terrace and into my beautiful new condo. I've spent countless hours and lots of money trying to sleep soundly in the apartment I shared with my man and turns out, while the most expensive thing I've tried, all I needed was home-ownership. I haven't slept more soundly in over a year.

I expected Olive and I to sense emptiness. After all, we're back to living alone. Instead, it is the most calm and happy we've felt in a long time. The anxiety of our former roommate's unpredictable treatment is gone along with night after night of tears and yelling. There is absolutely nothing empty about quiet rain coming down while I unpack, rinsing away the hurt of the past year. I may never tire of it.

Living with a lover is trying. I don't think anyone can challenge that statement. People argue and lose patience, say things they don't mean and things they do. Love is made and love is challenged. Lessons are learned too, good and bad, proud and shameful. I've learned something each time I've done it and am better for it. I look forward to doing it again even, more cautiously of course.

This time around I learned about commitment. I committed to one year and in that time my will and tolerance were tested to their limits. But, I didn't give up until the very last hour, just before I had to turn my old keys over. And at that moment I realized that my commitment was meaningless. I learned that commitment doesn't get you all that far every time. In fact, sometimes it gets you nowhere. It isn't always the good thing it is made out to be. I will take that lesson to my next relationship...commit if committed to. Share if shared with. Understand if understood. Love if loved. And if not, walk the other way.

I heard a repetitive shout again and again this year that has now became a mantra: Move on. My commitment didn't let me do that very comfortably before now. Luckily, I'm a fast learner.