For those of you who have followed this amazing blogue from its inception, you’re well aware of my MF. He’s been a part of many of these posts, sometimes good, sometimes not so much. But, when there’s no ring involved, or sappy I do’s or don’ts, it just makes life easier. Kind of? Now, however, I’m just not managing a breakup well. Emotionally, yes. Practically, no. When there’s no animosity, nothing really to fight over, it’s not as easy as one might think. I’d like to pile his stuff out in the yard and set it on fire, but he kindly just packed it up and left. For now. There lies the problem. It’s too easy, too soft, and when it comes right down to it I don’t like to miss a meal. If nothing else MF was always a good date. Or at least an agreeable date. Which is part of the problem I suppose, because it always left me in charge. Of life. Of all decisions. Of all The Who, what, where, and when’s. And that just got tiring. Although I’m a brilliant Boomlennials, thinking for two just is a lot of work. When I was actively parenting, my life was never my own. The family’s needs were utmost in my mind and I was okay with that. Then. Over it. So now I’m trying to drop my MF at college and have him fend for himself. While I enjoy my empty nest. Just hard when you share friends, share diagnosis, share a love for puzzles (ok I know that’s weird), and start getting hungry around five o’clock. Need a better plan then telling everyone we’ve split while seeing way too much of each other. And let’s face it. It’s kind of hard to pick up men when you are with one grabbing your hand all the time. I do a lot of things half a$$y, which is perfectly acceptable. Mostly. But maybe not this time. And if I hear one more electric guitar version of the National Anthem I’m going to revolt. Or something. Not a fan. How’s that for changing the subject??