Bruised and Broken up, but not Broken

I woke up on a recent Friday morning inexplicably happy. A smile was permanently on my face from the time the alarm buzzed to the time I got home. I was terribly nice to every person who called me at work. I ended every email with a: Have a great weekend!

It’s hard to believe that this happiest of happy days was only 1 week after the boy-of-nearly-7-months and I had broken up. I was, in fact, happy that the relationship was over. The boy-of-nearly-7-months and I weren’t perfect matches. We tried fitting ourselves together like two mismatched puzzle pieces for the last 5 months of the relationship and it consistently ended up with a lopsided puzzle. I miss my partner in crime, but I don’t really miss the boy-of-nearly-7-months (though I do miss his dog a whole lot).

So, was my happiness that Friday due to the fact that the relationship was over? *I was freeeeeee!* Or was it due to the prospect of being single again? *It’s a sunny day and there are cute boys everywhere and damn I love this city because there are cute boys everywhere!!!* Or maybe it was just hormones. Or maybe it was the sunny, summery weather. Or maybe, shit, I was just happy.

At the time, I didn’t analyze it. I reveled in it. Yes, I’m sad the relationship is over. Yes, I’m terrified (terrified!!!) of being single again. Yes, I loathe (loathe!!!!) the idea of online dating again. Though I’m certain that happy Friday is the first of many happy days to come. Summer is upon us. The sea is full of more fish. My family is close. My job is great. I get paid handsomely to wake up every Saturday and go to a 94th floor with a view to practice yoga. Life is better than good. My heart may be bruised, but I’m certainly not broken.

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