Brown Paper Packages

Everybody says going through a divorce is hard. Mine wasn’t. The divorce was easy. It is the 'getting back to life' part that is the worst. All of the household chores are mine. All of the bills are mine. All of the decisions are mine. In a way, it is kind of freeing but how did I manage this alone? Who am I as an individual now? I’ve grown out of my old self before the marriage but need to find who I have become.

Selling the house was freedom. Freedom from the mortgage. Freedom from the memories. Freedom from him. I hate downsizing but there was no way for the contents of my 3 bedroom house to fit in a one bedroom apartment. I don’t need much space but all of my stuff does. My best guy friend helped me move some of the contents but when the movers came, they had their job cut out for them. There were clothes going to the new apartment, boxes going to my mom’s basement and furniture donated to charities. I knew I had to start fresh and again, this was a new form of freedom.

Once I finally settled into my new home, the work really began. How do I start building a new life? Where do I begin? Why do I want to? These life changing questions filled my head as I lie on my new bed and stare at the ceiling. There were still a few boxes to unpack and that task seemed easier than tackling the questions I didn’t want to face.

First and foremost, I wanted to focus on me. What did I want to do with my life? Where did I see myself in 5 years? Who did I want to become? I reached out to my friends who were a fantastic support system. Although they were mostly married, I didn’t feel like a third wheel when I went to dinner with them. I didn’t feel left out when I would be at a party or wedding alone. There were always friendly faces and kind hearts surrounding me.

Every once in a while, someone would ask when I would start dating again. The thought terrified me. Would I be stuck on one of those online dating sites seeing the same faces over and over again? The horror stories from those sites put me on edge. I knew dating in this era was different but there were so many new angles that needed to be put in place. A back up system of someone knowing who and where you were going, a deep dive operation on scrubbing background information and other safety measures had to be in place. That was just on top of finding someone I actually wanted to spend time with.

No. I would just try to bar scene. I would go grocery shopping and make eye contact with any single man in the place. I would do anything before going online. Set me up with a friend. I don’t care. I just didn’t want to create that profile. I was scared.

After a few months of not having any luck, I decided to give online dating a try. I only told a few people what I was doing. I was embarrassed but I did want to have a few people I could rely on to have my back in case I ran into a situation and needed help. My guy friend was perfect because he was always there for me. Years of hanging out and building our friendship made me realize he was someone I could count on to be there for me if I needed assistance. Plus he was a big guy that could scare anyone away if I needed it.

I picked a website and started filling out my profile. How tall are you? 5’8”. OK, this isn’t so bad. What are some of your favorite things? Brown paper packages tied up with string. I laughed a little as I sung that famous song by Julie Andrews in my head. I uploaded a few pictures of myself to complete my profile and took a deep breath. I was doing this.

As I scrolled through profiles, I began to notice a trend. The guys all seemed to be players. The few messages I got were just for a one night hook up. That was not what I wanted. I kept scrolling. I kept blocking. After a few days I started to get discouraged. If I’ve learned anything in life though is to just keep going. I couldn’t give up this easily.

I was running low on wine so wanted to run out to the store and stock up. I opened my door to a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper laying at my feet. I picked it up and saw that it was one of my favorite bottles of wine but there was no note. Where did it come from? Who left this here for me? Who was in my head? I took the bottle inside to inspect it. Aside from a good fingerprint dusting, there was no way I could figure out this mystery.

The packages kept arriving. Each day I would find a new box in my doorway with a new gift inside. No note but something that I either needed or wanted. A box of popcorn one day and a peacock throw pillow the next. Beach themed wine charms now adorned my glasses and cherry moscato filled them. Although these gifts were perfect, I still was concerned on who was leaving them for me. Who knew I was single? How did they get my address? Was someone spying on me through my window? Were they waiting for me when I went to pick up my mail? Did they follow me through the grocery store?

Finally after about a week, there was a knock at my door. My guy friend was standing there with a dozen roses and a box of chocolates wrapped in brown paper. I smiled and let him in. The friend zone had definitely passed him by as we decided to take our relationship to the next level.

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