Alone. Literally.

I’m just laying in bed. Trying to grasp how my life got… here. Alone. So utterly alone.

Z, after being awful to me, moved out today. Supposedly he’s moving to Louisiana to work. He’ll be back for his surgery 5/29. I’ll believe it all when I see it. He left an awful mess in his wake. So, when I got home tonight I began on it. Spraying everything down. Starting the bedding. Lots of bleach. I’m hoping it’ll all come clean and I can have it done by Friday night. I hate living in filth.

A went back to college. He’ll have his stuff out this month to move into his new house in his college town. Never to be back as he hopes to head to Idaho next for work upon final flight hours.

Max obviously hasn’t returned. Says we’re still dating. Yet only sees me when it’s convenient for him. Not when I need him. Like really need him.

So, tonight’s my first night of ever really living alone. I moved out the day I turned 17 but had a 1 year old and friends stayed. I’ve always had kids, a husband or a significant other living with me. Never in my life have I been THIS alone. Knowing nobody is coming home or will be here when I get home or cares about my day or wants to tell me about theirs.

Its rough. So rough.

I don’t actually like alone. At all.

I should be cuddling my brand new baby girl. Not doing this. Not being alone. Not living in a world that she doesn’t exist.

It sucks. Truly.