Coffee Cup

He’s gone. It’s over. I knew it was coming but I still feel blindsided.

Four years and now what? Nothing? Alone? Cast aside like a supposedly compostable coffee cup?

I’m pretty sure the girls have given up on me. The concerned texts have dissipated. The group chat has gone suspiciously quiet. I know they were in town at the weekend, without me. Someone forgot to block me from their stories…

I told them I wasn’t ready to do the whole thing yet. I know that as soon as we set foot in Sullivan’s I will be getting elbows in the ribs and not-so-subtle winks aimed at your man in the corner.

Why can’t they just let me sit in it for a while longer.

I want to sit in it. I need to sit in it. Just for another little while.

I’m not a fool, I know he was wrong for me. I knew deep down things would never change and that he wasn’t The One.

None of that makes it easier, or better. It still hurts, and I am struggling.

Even though it wasn’t perfect, we were still an “us”, a “thing”. Two halves of a whole. Well, A-hole would be more appropriate in hindsight, but nothing beats being coupled up does it?

And now what am I? Half of nothing? How absolutely depressing. Here I am at 33 years of age, starting from the bottom of the pile, yet again.

I really thought when we first got together that this was finally it. There I was, totally loved up with this fairly decent fella, and I hadn’t even turned 30 yet! Living the Millennial dream!

And 4 years later, I find myself wallowing in my generously titled lounge wear, sobbing and snotting over the flood of engagement rings and pregnancy announcements that are washing over my newsfeeds on a daily basis.

It should be me with the blinging grid post.

It should be me with the tacky bun-in-the-oven gaffs.

But it’s not me. And it won’t be me. Maybe not ever.

Why can’t they just indulge me and sit in it with me?

They were great for the first couple of weeks. I felt so supported and loved, even in the absence of the one I wanted to love me the most.

But now, I feel cast aside yet again.

Will I eventually start to decompose like the coffee cup? Or will I stubbornly stay in one piece, resisting the environmental factors eating away at me?

If they would just indulge me for another little while, I feel like I would be ready.

Four years is a long time. It’s only been four weeks, and they have already given up.

Maybe they are right and I am wrong? Should I just shut up and get on with it? Is it wrong to sit in it? What are the rules?

It is terrifying to contemplate single life in this world. Well, single life is fine if that’s what you want, I suppose I should say the trying-not-to-be-single life…

I can’t even let my head go there.

I need my girls.

I need someone to sit in it with me.

I don’t want to feel like a coffee cup anymore.

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