When I was a teenager if you had asked me where I would be in my mid-twenties, I would’ve told you that I expected to have my college degree and perhaps I would be pursuing a law degree.  I expected that I would be dating a fabulous supportive man and we would probably be well on our way to white picket fence and 2.5 children.

I did not think I would be a college drop out, having fled my home and my last relationship like a refugee leaving my homeland. I didn’t expect that I would be living in an apartment with a sofa, TV, and little else in the way of furniture, but that’s exactly where I am, sitting here in the mostly empty apartment. How did I get here?

My relationship with Rob had moved fast, shortly after meeting we were living together, and our life settled down into a fun and easy schedule. We lived a little way outside of town and so in the evenings we enjoyed long walks on the quiet on the street and on the weekend we picked our way through trails that lead to an area that might grow up to be a subdivision some day, but for now it was wooded with winding trails. We went to the movies, dinners with friends, had long sleepy Sundays watching movies and lazing around the house.

Things changed slowly, I could feel Rob pulling away from me and at first I wasn’t sure why. I thought he was wrestling with his own demons, and I just tried to gently be there so when he was ready to let me in, he’d know I was there. His job took him out of town for one weekend a month, and when he came back I lapped up all of the stories that he shared and asked questions but it never occurred to me to dig too deeply.

Emily, I heard him talk about her a few times, she was a friend of a friend so she seemed to be around when he was on these weekend trips away but I didn’t think much of it, well not in the beginning. It was when her name started popping up on the caller id on a regular basis that I realized that she must be more than merely “a friend of a friend.” I also noticed that when Rob was on the phone with her and I walked into the room, he would stop talking.

It was the day that Rob met me in town for dinner and so we were both driving home in separate cars that I was forced to confront the ugly truth. I called to check messages on the answering machine from my cell phone, and Emily left a message telling Rob how she couldn’t wait to see him that weekend and she hoped that soon he would be “free” and my face burned when I realized that she meant free from me.

I didn’t angrily confront him, in fact I continued to pretend that I was still the same trusting and loving woman I had always been but I was moved out in less than a week. My Mom helped me find an apartment and with two friends with large trucks, I was moved out on a Saturday afternoon. Rob came back to town from a weekend with Emily, and I was gone, I didn’t live there anymore.

When Rob got home and saw that I was gone he called me and then we had the angry confrontation. He denied that he had cheated on me because he and Emily had never “crossed the line” in their friendship, I argued that the minute he was confiding in her about our problems instead of working on them with me he was cheating. He felt guilty but he also seemed relieved that the whole mess was over. I don’t remember how the call ended, but it ended, just as I thought our story ended.

I’m here, sleeping in the living room on the sofa because I don’t have a bed nor any kind of savings to furnish my new apartment. Still sorting through all of my belongings which I had packed in garbage bags and bundles so they were rather chaotic. In my mess I’m quite the contradiction – happy and hopeful one minute, sad or angry the next. I don’t know what the future holds but I cheer myself that the possibilities are endless.

I didn’t know it when I moved out but I was already pregnant with my son. I had a light period and just assumed that it was because of all the stress I was going through with Rob. I still remember sitting in that apartment trying to focus on all the possibilities of the future.