Nerves

I can't really sleep. I'm tired, but my body and mind won't let me sleep.

Why is it that when I'm at my most independent I've really ever been in my life, when I should be at my most carefree and relaxed, my nerves creep up on me and slowly dismantle me from the inside?

I am worried about the housing situation for myself and how it's going to play out. This is mostly an irrational fear and I know this, because there will probably be minimal changes made to the lease here at this house or a simple renewal in my name -- if any changes happen at all. Even though I know this, and even though I know that phone call will take less than ten minutes of my morning, it still has me on edge and apprehensive.

Again, the former girlfriend tells me not to worry about it, and anything that changes will more than likely be a formality for paperwork purposes only. It's still really messing with my head, and I can't figure out why. I'm not usually this high-strung, and I don't usually worry about stuff like this. You know me, "laid back, go-with-the-flow," etc. I can't help but wonder if it's underlying stress and the fear of the future unknown that's slowly starting to get to me, because, indeed, I am starting an entirely new life.

I have never lived on my own before, as you may know. Never completely, anyway. I lived with my parents all through my undergrad years at WVU, and didn't move out of the house until I was 23, almost 24. When I did, it was because I moved in with the former girlfriend and her parents before we got a place of our own, then another place of our own, and then this place. With us now broken up and her possibly moving out by the weekend or shortly thereafter, I will be on my own with no other human presence in the household for the foreseeable future. While that gives me a huge amount of freedom and independence to do what I want whenever I want to do it, with that comes a sense of fear and boredom. No, I'm not afraid to live on my own, obviously, but there is clearly a sense of "I have no clue what the future holds and no direction to my life outside of school."

Like it or not, the former girlfriend's presence shaped my life over the past six years we were together. Living out here with her for the past five of those six years has taught me a fierce sense of responsibility and duty, loyalty not only to myself but to others, and that alone has helped foster a sense of independence. Aside from short stretches when I wasn't working (after the first move out here from West Virginia, and then for a few months after we moved to Kansas) I never depended on her to provide for us or pay for anything she didn't have to, though we did admittedly share her car until earlier this summer. I always tried to be the most self-sufficient I could be when it came to monetary matters or issues and did my best to provide for her and the cats as well. Now that I don't have to budget to provide for two people, I shouldn't be so apprehensive about living alone, should I?

Ironically, it's the things that one can't place a finger on which will keep you up in the middle of the night writing blog posts with your cat at your feet. I'm so used to having someone else around me physically, in the house -- whether that be my parents, her parents, or the former girlfriend herself -- that I can talk to or interact with. Just someone else that's there. And no, the cats don't really count in that department, though they do help. When the former girlfriend moves out, I will be on my own. My mother told me she worried about me getting depressed and lonely, and I told her not to worry about me, because I'll be fine. I will be fine, but the isolation for those first few weeks will take some getting used to until I can settle into a groove.

Returning to school, of course, where I'm around all of my friends and colleagues all day, will certainly help. Again, like it or not, I just can't up and leave Kansas, not that I really want to anyhow; I have two years of schooling left, and I intend to stay the course and finish them. If it weren't for school, and if it weren't for the friends, connections, and (of course) cats I have here, I would seriously consider going somewhere else. But I have a book to publish, student loans to receive (and, eventually, pay back), and responsibilities to take care of.

I've written before about the breakup being a sort of rebirth for the both of us; the former girlfriend gets to experience life unhindered by a boyfriend, something she's missed out on quite a bit since we were together since she was a senior in high school, and I get to start the life that most of my other male friends have and have had for years -- meaning, the life of a single male in his late twenties, living alone as a swinging bachelor. It's like I'm Bruce Wayne without the money or the dead parents. Hell, my car even looks like a low-rent Batmobile.

I always told myself, in a laughable sort of way, that if in the future I gained access to a time machine, I would bring it back to the present and tell the younger me "Hey, look. Relax. Everything's going to be fine. You have money and you're married in the future, and look, you're thinner. You get lucky. Everything works out. I mean, seriously, this is a time machine, and I'm using it to come back and talk to your lame ass, so that should be proof enough that your future is going to be fine. So chill the fuck out."

Would I believe the older me, or would I think he was lying to give me a false sense of security?

This whole "rebirth" and "complete independence" thing is fucking scary, though. And I know, I know, some of you (particularly any guys my age reading this, who have been living on their own for years) must be thinking, "Seriously, Brandon, get a grip already." I understand that. It's not about "getting a grip," it's about the unknown. Knowns and unknowns. Didn't Donald Rumsfeld give a famous speech about knowns and unknowns at some point? I'll have to look it up. More than anything, for this period of time, anyway, this blog is a form of self-help, a way for me to get all of these thoughts running through my mind out onto the page, whether people read/respond to it or not. It's a way for me to process all of the changes that's going on right now and will be going on in the future, and -- more than anything else right now -- it makes me feel better. I'm not writing here to garner sympathy or to make people think/worry about me; I'm writing because I'm a writer, and it's what I do. Believe me, if I needed help, pity, sympathy, or anything else, I would tell you (and I would tell you why).

I will also add that it's funny to read comments and messages from friends saying things along the lines of "Sucks to hear about you and [former girlfriend]. So, who's next on your list?" This question has come from both male and female friends of mine, by the way. Most of whom are either in long-term relationships or married, I might add.

My...list? Who keeps a list? I mean that in a serious way, too. The former girlfriend and I were together for over six years. I had no interest in making something as petty as a list.

A list. Feh. As if love, or women, are things to be conquered.

Truthfully, aside from joking with the former girlfriend about it, it's the last thing on my mind right now. Moving on in a psychological, physical, or sexual sense with "the next woman on my list" is not incredibly high on my list of priorities. There's too much else to do and worry about first, and my days of being the kind of guy who stops by for a one-night (or, occasionally, a one-afternoon) stand ended in my college years. I'm too old for that shit.

So, again, tomorrow is a new day, and as you know my motto -- let's make it better than the last.