Detoured

Life took a sharp left turn last week.

My girlfriend and I recently celebrated our one year anniversary, or as I called it, one year of her not suffocating me under her pillow.  I put together a weekend getaway for us in Baltimore and made reservations at a place in Little Italy for dinner.  I wanted that weekend to be perfect.

In almost every way it was perfect.  We went out for brunch with some friends the next morning, and everything was awesome.  She had a busy week at work after our getaway, so I knew I wouldn't be able to see her much the next few days.

Right now you're probably wondering where I'm going with this.  You might even think you know where this story is going, and you could well be partially right.

The weekend after out getaway she was getting back on her diet and cleansing her system.  We only got to see each other briefly, but I didn't think much of it since I knew she was busy between work and had a migraine from her rough week.  We didn't talk too much over the course of the following days either since she was still swamped with work.  I still didn't think too much of anything at this point since she was waiting on refinancing her house now that her divorce had been finalized.  I knew the waiting was a source of stress, so I wasn't about to add any pressure by trying to find five minutes to see her and the kids.

Last Tuesday she called me with some exciting news: her refi on her house was approved, and all she needed to do was sign the papers.  Excellent!  Now we could finally talk more about me moving in with her!

I should mention here that since the first week of the year I've been sleeping in my buddy's basement in his house.  It's fairly complicated to explain, but I had moved to the basement temporarily because he had a new roommate moving into my old room in his house.  We agreed to have me live down there part time while my girlfriend and I worked on finding a date for me to move in with her.  It was just a matter of time, but we had expected me to move in by early spring.

Then came this past Thursday.

I was at my girlfriend's house, and she had told me earlier in the day she needed to talk to me.  She was definitely not her normal self, especially considering how happy she was just two days before after learning her refi was good to go.  After the kids were put to bed, we had a long conversation.

The short version: I'm a single man again.

I won't go into all the details, but I was extremely caught off guard hearing her tell me why she wanted to end things.  When it was all over, I couldn't believe how in the span of less than two weeks, we went from being an incredibly happy couple to complete splitsville.  I packed up all my things I could gather and tossed them in my car.  I drove away from her house for essentially the final time, still in amazement over how quickly things had fallen apart.

Don't forget - I'm sleeping on my buddy's couch in the meantime, figuring I'd be moving in with my girlfriend in the near future.  Now that expectation is completely off the table, and I have to scramble to find something much more permanent for myself.  I had moved most of my furniture and belongings into storage around the same time I had moved to the basement, but I had to find a much more permanent place to live.  Fortunately, two of my closest buddies put me in touch with a friend of ours who is buying a house and wants to rent out her basement.  She closes on her house the end of this month, and I can check out the place after she moves in.  It sounds very promising, so it could be the best possible solution in a bad situation.

Starting life over really sucks and blows at the same time.  I have no idea if my (ex) girlfriend and I will reconcile, but in the meantime I'm strongly thinking of seeing a therapist.  I've taken a long look at myself in the mirror the last few days, and I've identified several things that need work from a mental and emotional standpoint.  I feel a little better knowing that I have friends and family members who love me enough to pick me up when life forces me onto a detour that I didn't previously anticipate.