This was my first real weekend in my new place (real, meaning, it wasn't Moving Weekend or Halloween) and I have to admit, it was a little rough.
Important items are unpacked and tidied away and I'm settling into a routine, but with that routine comes a reminder of all the things that my new life isn't.
It isn't a life that I'm sharing with someone a love. It isn't a life that I'm building with someone else. It may be strange for some of you to hear, but I've never experienced this before. I've never been so completely on my own.
An independent life is something that I'm having trouble adjusting to. I don't know what it's like to make decisions that affect only me. Simple choices like what color to paint a wall or what to buy for dinner seem so daunting, because I'm out there floundering on my own, with no partner to turn to and ask, "What do you think?"
It also feels incredibly indulgent. And risky.
I'm struggling a little bit, but I'm hanging in there. I'll be back with some knitting content really, really soon.