Pick up. Drop off.


As the meet swap approaches
the anticipation
picks up,
along with it anxiety, my forever friend.
The taste of time out.
Time off.
A break.
A pause in the persistent parenting pulse.

Instead;
The moment after exchange,
all anticipation free falls into suspension.

Relief, rest and relaxation
drops off
as if winded.
Punched.
Paused.
What remains is a quiet, pouting, pondering emptiness.

Action is shallow.
Thought is deep.
It takes a moment to regain, review, revive.

So it goes, the pick up, drop off.
#Divorce.



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About Tuesday night…

About Tuesday night…

For the first time since being divorced I decided to give online dating a proper go. It doesn’t feel natural or comfortable for me, it’s way out of my comfort zone and completely unlike the traditional meeting people via other other people or meet at work approach that was around back in the day when I was single. (Pre Google and Apps days).

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D Day

D Day
11 September 2018

If feels like forever. It feels like a minute ago. I think the apprehension of what might or might not happen was worse than the actual event.

“Ok Bron we are all done now. Congrats”

And that was that. A marriage dissolved. Divorced.

Congrats? Condolences?

I haven’t replied yet. What do you say to a message like that?

Ok?
Thank you?
You too?
Noted?

I am hoping that in this instance the 2 blue ticks of a Whatsapp read message will suffice. I am not yet fluent in divorce etiquette.

What do I feel?
Not sure really.

Right now?

Right now I feel fabulous. I spent a small fortune and 6 hours at the salon and emerged a different new me.
I feel fucking phenomenal.

Relief
Free
A chapter closed.
A little numb.

I feel like it’s one of those moments where what goes up must come down but right now I don’t care. I am in the moment. I am sitting in a coffee shop that serves Cosmo’s at 7pm at night with Table Mountain behind me and the sun setting in front of me and I feel like all is right with the world. I feel like Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City.

Now is not the time for reflection or to peel back the layers and digest all of this. I need to just be and let things take its course. I don’t want to control my emotions right now.

Right now I am not a Wife.
Right now I am not a Mom (Kids are with Jean, bless her)
Right now I am not a Daughter (I haven’t called Mom yet)
Right now I am not a Sister (I have called my Sister yet)
Right now I am not an Employee (took 2 days off work)

I am ME – and what that is?

Every time I think I know, I surprise myself and learn more. I am excited to find out. I have pink nails and blonde, very blonde hair. I can be anything I want. A writer? A dancer? A leader? A TV Producer? An interior designer? Who knows.

Ok Shaz is around the corner. I must hustle. The fat Cactus awaits.