Part of breaking off a live-in relationship is the phenomenon of learning to be alone again.
I was elite-level at being alone once upon a time. I lived by myself throughout college, and for the first three years after I graduated. I loved it. I loved not having to apologize for leaving the pasta pot in the sink for two days because work went crazy and I didn't have the time or energy to deal with washing a few dishes. I loved that I had 100% control over the remote. I loved that I never had to shut the bathroom door.
Then, I started a gradual descent into roommate-ville. First, it was in the true sense of a roommate - yes, there was another person present, but not someone with any sort of obligation to hang out with you. Then, suddenly, I was living with the person with whom I was in a relationship, and those obligations started to exist, and this bizarre built in social life, 90% of which took place at home, was born.
Right now, I am apartment/cat-sitting for friends of mine, which means that it's just me and 30 lbs of cat (there are two of them) in a one-bedroom apartment.
I have 400 square feet all to myself, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it. For the first 24 hours, I've been huddled on the couch, almost unsure what to do with the rest of the place - it's just more space than I've had all to myself in more than three years.
But I could totally get used to it, even if there is no way in hell I could ever afford it in this city.
It's me, a TV, a kitchen, and a couch. I'm not being literal, but those are the things that factor in to the majority of my time spent here.
And I love it. And I realize how much I've missed being independent, being my own person, relying on myself to create my life - not relying on someone else to be a built in, easy life.
And with that, I am going to clean up from working out, get dressed, and find something to do outside of this apartment, by myself. Because I think I can be great at that again.