We Broke Up.

So, I'm going to "rebrand." Here's to a new chapter, boy howdy.

Let me start by saying this may come across as melodramatic.

It’s not an unfamiliar trait for me; I suspect as I try to regain my voice and courage to use it, what I have to say will be a mosaic of splintered thoughts littered with grief, self-deprecation, spiteful optimism, anxious bravery, and dying on the hill of doing things my way while not knowing at all what the hell I am doing.

This particular thought hasn’t been my primary concern—believe me, there are more urgent things for me to worry about right now—but I have contemplated how much I want to share, what I want to share, and how to create art out of what feels like a foolish and bold endeavor.

A few weeks ago, my partner of over six years and I broke up. I ended up spending the majority of my twenties with a kind, generous, loving, all-around great guy. It’s a little surprising given the two relationships that preceded this one. It is one thing to remove yourself from something toxic or abusive (all I knew up until a certain point), but it is another thing entirely to walk away from someone you love who has treated you well.

I don’t think I ever wrote about my relationship much at all here on my Substack or in much of my published writing. And what I know for certain is that I don’t want to turn a breakup into “content.” Instead, I want to give you a heads up: I will be creating art as a newly single woman in her 30s as she tries to put the pieces of her life back together and find happiness all for herself.

What I will say about this ending is that it is heavy and it came with great consideration—is this my heart being fickle, am I incapable of accepting love or happiness, or is there something here that just isn’t working anymore for either of us?

I’m in the middle of trying to move my things into storage.

I’m in the middle of hoping a new place lines up soon in the next few weeks, a place that will accept my cat and my mom as a roommate (yay for moving back in with my mom for the…third time…lord have mercy on me).

I’m in the middle of not thinking too far ahead just yet.

I’m in the middle of grieving the life I’ve known for the past few years, of the friends who haven’t spoken to me or I to them.

I’m in the middle of batting away the intrusive thoughts that my friendship and place in this life were always conditional at best.

I’m in the middle of trying not to ruminate on the great loneliness I feel or give any credit to the seductive whisper of a thought that I will never be in love again or have the relationship I want or be a mother one day.

I’m in the middle of the greatest storm I’ve ever witnessed and participated in.

But I am also in the middle of hoping for the best, of repeating my affirmations to the Universe to dampen the spiral, of planning for my upcoming travels, of leaning deeper into the friendships I cherish with those who cherish me back.

I’m just in the middle of everything right now, and I am going into this next chapter hell-bent to not fumble, to run through it, to lean into this, and throw as much of myself as possible into my art.

So, expect these changes to take place immediately.

And best of luck reading along.

I’ll try to make it somewhat entertaining.

— River