My space

When I got the text on Thursday morning letting me know that everything was a go for my new apartment, I was pretty happy.

My emotions were all over the place on Thursday.

I had my good friend over and after a few minutes, I just started crying and crying. (The official theme of this blog).

I know that no one has an easy life and everyone has a struggle - it's all what you make of life and it's all about perception. But I feel like I've had a very big struggle over the last two years and especially the last twelve months. And I kind of feel like....nothing has really been easy in my life lately.

If I really sat down, I know that I could think of many things that have come easy to me, but for now, I tend to focus on the negative rather than the positive. :(

But this apartment....I NEEDED this. I needed something that was mine. I needed something that is a fresh start from my Quebec....madness.

I first came to Quebec summer of 2013, I left in the fall to travel to Morocco and ended up not coming back until May 2014, with the exception of one week to move my things from my ex's place. That was the "first" separation. We got back together and I came back. I do believe that trying another time was worth it - I would have always wondered "what if" if I hadn't...but I wish I would have waited an extra couple of months because I was in a pretty unstable place mentally and I think I needed to be around my family. I started my Quebec part 2 on rocky ground, struggled to find a job, took the wrong job, stayed in that job, watched my marriage fall apart....and well, you all know the rest.

But this apartment....I just fell in love with it. I wasn't prepared to because I thought it was in the wrong area, it was on the top floor and I wanted something on the ground floor, it was too big, and I just wasn't prepared to find something without looking at another ten aparments - at least.

I went back the next myself (a friend was supposed to come with me, but ditched me like she usually does...) and still, was so in love with the place. I liked my property managers, who were very understanding of my situation, very helpful, and everything just "felt" like it should.

On Thursday, I cried and cried, and asked if my friend would drive past my apartment with me. I needed someone that loved me to see where I was going to live. I didn't have the keys and couldn't show him the inside, but I just needed someone to see it.

Throughout my divorce, I have preferred to go through this alone. I have reached out when I needed to, when I was really down and overwhelmed, don't know, some kind of wolf, let's say, I needed to separate myself from the people that loved me and deal with this by myself for the most part. I know that I lost some friends this way (which means they were never really my friends to begin with), but...I didn't want...people seeing into my life, when I felt like it was this incredible mess.

Don't worry - it's still a mess - but in a more...every day mess, not in a...well crisis-mess.

So I cried on Thursday - and my friend just held me and let me cry - because I needed to let everything out. As much as I cry and as much as I've retreated for nearly a year - I needed to let it all go. To cry for all of my losses, to cry for all of what will never be, and to cry out of sheer relief because - I did it. I got my own apartment.

The dog and I will move in the last week of June. I'll have to spend a gazillion dollars because here in Quebec you need to buy your own fridge/stove/washer/dryer plus I'm short a little furniture, but I have a bit of money saved up and I get a bit of money from my ex once the divorce is final. But I'll have my space. I might stay there for a year, I might stay there for 5 years... But it's totally and completely MY space. And I deserve it.

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