Tonight after CrossFit,
where I’m getting better, I had a reality hit me. 

I’m completely single. Not
temporarily. Not for a moment, sort of a little bit single. I’m completely
single. I looked around my bedroom and it was shocking. Everything is only,
completely, singly mine. It made me dizzy and things looked odd. My shoes. My face
wash. Only mine. The flowers. The bed. Not waiting for someone to come back home.
Not holding their breath for someone to new arrive. Simply, singly, mine.
My body is mine. My clothes. My house. My car. My bills.
My food. My responsibilities. My children. My life.
This is the oddest feeling ever. I cried. And Cried. And
then I looked in the mirror and saw me. Singly, only me. Not attached to
anyone. Not waiting for anyone. Independent.
I feel very much like one of the characters in the book my agent is sending out next week. And I wonder how I wrote about a reality I didn’t fully appreciate until just now. The kingdom is mine. Someone
has to rule it. And I’m the one. I have people to help, but this life is only, singly, mine. 
I had thought being strong meant being a wife
and mother. I’d thought reality was Happily Ever After, and this was a quick detour around a little bump in the road.  Now I discover reality can also mean being completely, utterly single.

And for the first time ever I think, “So this is what it feels like to be a grown