He slammed the door as he practically sprinted out of the room and with that he closed the door on any possibilities that were to come. It was the end of a long and tiring argument that we’d been having for the last two years and, as hard as the months had been, I couldn’t accept that it was all just over that quickly. I felt heart-broken and relieved all at the same time. I could still hear the exhaustion in his voice as he said “We just can’t keep doing this. We need to be done.” I was angry because he had said what I had been thinking but just couldn’t verbalize. Mad as I was, I also felt a weight lift off of me as the thought occurred that I wouldn’t have to keep trying, I could just let it go now and be done fighting. I would miss him in the weeks and maybe even months to come, but I would be thankful for the time to move on and do the things I wanted to do. In the moments that he left me all alone in the apartment I had began to call my own, I went through every stage of grief in a flash. I denied that he had actually left and that this was all over. He was just out getting some air, but he would be back to talk it over and we’d be fine. I was angry and bitter and I screamed at the closed-door; I was mad that he got to be the one to make this decision, why did he get to be the strong one? I bargained with myself about if I could just say something else to make him stay or if we just compromised more we’d be okay. Then the sadness sank in and I crumpled into a ball on the floor and ugly cried for a while. It all came out there, the tears and loneliness that I had felt for the last two years came bursting forward. As I cried and hyperventilated on the floor of what used to be our room, it all slowly clicked in my mind – this is what was always going to happen. Nothing could change this. Maybe we could have faked it for a little while longer, but no matter what, we’d always end up right here. Tired, bitter, and sad.
Months went by and I thought of that door and the nine minutes of pure internal chaos that followed it being thrown closed. I was okay. I missed him some times, but not really him, just having someone there. I missed waking up to a some times smiling face. I missed coming home to someone. But I was okay. I was finally on my own and doing well. I had cleaned up my life and habits and had finally done some things I wanted to. I worked really hard for the first few months and saved a lot of money up and then I took some time off to just be happy on my own. I repainted the apartment. I sold my old furniture and bought some new things. I had friends over for the first time in years and I made delicious dinners and desserts. I started attending local art classes and got to know new people. I learned to be happy being by myself and to enjoy the quiet peaceful times in life. I spent time looking back on what had happened and realized that I had never been so thankful for a door being closed in all my life.