Since he's been gone:

What I've learned since my divorce

By Gina Angostura
NH Mirror Staff

I never thought I’d ever say it: I’m used to being single.

You’re talking to a woman who came from a family of 10 (including parents) and ended up with a family of six (including a poor excuse for a husband).

So I’m used to having lots of people around.

I remember when my husband took our kids to Florida one year, early on in our marriage. I had to stay behind for a few days because I had final exams. Being alone in the house was way freaky. I slept with every light blazing and a baseball bat in bed next to me. Luckily no one broke in, or they would have felt the wrath of Wiffle plastic upside their head. (My son was only 4; it’s all we had.)

Now I’m alone all the time. I sleep alone, I eat alone, I shower alone most of the time. My youngest just got her driver’s license so, of course, I’ll never see her again. It’s astounding how everything changes so quickly.
It’s hard to think that maybe this will be my status for good, that I might never meet my companion, my comrade in my arms, the Pinky to my Brain, the Cap’n to my Crunch.

It’s possible it’s not going to happen for me. I was quite sure, while my marriage was breaking up, that it was going to happen, and quickly. But like Mr. Jagger so profoundly says, “Hey, hey, hey, that’s what I say.”
Either that, or “You can’t always get what you want.” Stones songs all sound the same to me. Jagger enunciates worse than Bob Dylan.

But it’s all right, ma, everybody must be alone, at one point or another.

The only time I’m freaked out by myself is if there’s a commercial on for a scary movie. You know the ones. Lightning flashes at night and all of a sudden there’s a scary child on a swing in the backyard. Or you close the medicine cabinet mirror and a stranger is STANDING RIGHT BEHIND YOU!

Otherwise I’m fine. I’m finding strengths I never knew I had. I’ve put out small kitchen fires, unclogged sinks, been firm with repairmen, changed tires, bought and sold a condo, figured out why my bank account is screwed up again and worked two jobs to pay for Christmas. And none of it killed me.

I’ve learned a lot about men, too, through the marriage, divorce and the great dating beyond. I’ve learned that men who treat you badly don’t change just because you marry them. I’ve learned that nice men who say they’ll call don’t always do it. I’ve learned that I’m pickier than I thought I was. But I’ve also learned not to expect too much.

So, every spider I squish, every light bulb I change, every computer glitch I work my way out of without a man (OK, that last one is complete literary license) just brings me that much closer to the man I’m supposed to be with: the one who wants me because I’m cute and funny, and most of all, not afraid of what life throws at me.

Unless it throws me a scary child in my bathroom mirror. Or a clown. I hate me some mirror clowns.

Does your misery love company? Send Gina an e-mail at singlecynic@thenhmirror.com.