Jody has the dog. I dropped him off last night. I’ve explained my reasons so many times in person, and some of them in here, and I honestly don’t want to hash over them again. Some think that I’m making a grave mistake by being alone in my apartment, and I can respect that opinion. I do not agree with it, and I think that this is the best option for me and for him.

It still tore me up to leave him there.

I’ve been an emotional wreck for the last few days anyway *shakes fist at Pay it Forward*, so this added to it.

Every day, I am surprised at how strange and how difficult it is to adjust to being on my own again. To being a sole unit, instead of a part of a duo. I also realize another bad habit that I’d adopted so that I could survive as her husband, and I pick at it and pick at it, and then let it be. It will fall away, eventually, if it’s not needed any more.

I’ve been spending a lot of time around kids, lately. I’ve found myself reminding them to shut the door, or pick up what they left sitting around, or whatever. I’ve also found myself doing the “ohmygoddon’tdie” panic when they have fallen off of a couch or smashed into each other, or whatever. Typical paternal concern.

Me.

The fact that I’ve even got it in me surprises the hell out of me. Being comfortable around kids? Me? Being concerned for their welfare? Is this some long-forgotten piece of me from when my biggest dream in life was to be a grandfather? Is this some sort of panicky grab for closeness now that the immensity of the ALONE is bearing down on me in full force? Why, then, has it come upon me gradually, as I’ve slowly spent time with these children?

You know, it doesn’t matter. I will spend my time how I enjoy spending it. If it’s starting tickle-fights with my friends’ children, then that’s how it will be.