Everyone has a bad day here and there, but I’ve been having a bad year. Life has smashed a giant creme pie in my face over and over for the past five months. Ever since my fiancé Joseph slept with Lisa, my ex friend, I’ve had one thing after another thrown at me. I do my best to keep a stiff upper lip and not let things affect me, but enough is enough. I think I’ve reached my limit and I need to call a timeout.

The latest catastrophe I’m dealing with is trying to find someplace to move into. Joseph needs me out of the house we lived in; the house he bought for us to raise a family in.

When we first split he moved into Lisa’s apartment, but now he’s claiming they need the extra space since they’re expecting a baby in four more months. He came up with all the money for the down payment and took care of all the monthly bills that go along with owning a house. Since I’ve been living there for free, I can’t really complain, and it has allowed me to save up a decent size nest egg.

I’ve decided to take this opportunity to move back to Boston. Doing this will put a good number of miles between Joseph and I - some much-needed distance. I’ll have to live with my parents until I can find a place of my own, but at least I’ll be near my sisters. I’d prefer to stay with Kennedy, but I can’t bring myself to ask her. She has enough drama in her life with her ex-boyfriend, Mike. I didn’t want to put her on the spot because I knew she’d say yes.

I’m close with both of my sisters, although I don’t get to see them nearly enough, especially Reagan. With her attending four years of college in California, she was really only home for the summers. We’d cram as much fun as we could into those three months and then she’d disappear for nine more.

Sorting through my wardrobe is overwhelming. I have too many clothes and not really by choice. Being the fiancé of an aspiring politician required me to dress a certain way. Picking up a floor length gown, I fold it neatly. I won’t be needing this any time soon. Setting it down on the donate pile, I continue to sort through a sea of clothes. Endless pairs of black pants, and pink blouses go into one of the plastic storage bins I’m taking with me. I add numerous sweaters and more pants until I can barely get the cover closed. While I pack up all my worldly possessions I try my hardest not to let thoughts of happier times spent with Joseph wander into my mind. It’s a more difficult task than I anticipated, especially when I’m staring at photographic evidence of how happy we once were. Picking up the silver framed picture, I study the image of us. Our arms are wrapped around each other, cheeks pressed together and eyes shining. When did the glow of love that surrounded us fade?

When did it become okay for him to stick his cock in another woman?

Because, drunk or not, that never should’ve happened. I could’ve been falling down from alcohol consumption, and I would never have slept with another man.

* * *

Moving day arrives and with it comes a sense of excitement. This is the first time I’ve felt hopeful in a long time. Joseph hired movers to take all my possessions and necessities to my parent’s garage. I told him I didn’t want him paying for anything else, but he insisted. I guess guilt can be a bitch on the wallet. The rest of my things get packed neatly into the trunk and back seat of my two-year-old Volvo.

Now that I’ve gained some distance from Joseph, I realize he was turning me into the perfect little wife. Nice conservative clothes – check. Dependable sedan – check. People pleaser - check. It’s disconcerting how much I let him change me and now I’m not even sure how to undo all the damage he caused to my psyche.

How do I go about finding myself when I can’t even remember where I got lost?

What happened to the girl who didn’t rely on anyone for anything? The girl who went to UMass even though her parents pressured her to stay local? Maybe finding that part of me, will help set me on the right path. I need to move forward one step at a time, although moving into my childhood home feels like a giant leap backward.

* * *

Even though I’ve been here for two days, it still feels as though I’ve landed in an alternate universe every time I glance around my old pink bedroom. And in a way, I have. I’ve just regressed six years into the past. If only I could really go back in time and change my actions. Where did I go wrong?

Was it in fifth grade when Mary Olson teased me about having a boy name? It didn’t help when I told her I was named after a President. She replied with, “exactly, all the presidents have been male.” She had a point and unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who made fun of me for my unorthodox name. As a result, I began to overcompensate by wearing as much pink as I possibly could. Pink - a color boys don’t usually wear.

Maybe, I’d go back to the day when I met Joseph in the library at UMass. I was seated alone at a long table studying for one of my exams when he asked if he could share the space with me. He was cute in an unassuming, clean cut way and he had a nice smile with perfect teeth. I nodded and introduced myself and the rest is history.

A better option might be to go back to the day I met Lisa. If I hadn’t met her then she wouldn’t have been introduced to Joseph through me. He and I might still be a couple. We were happy together at one point.

I can’t bring myself to unpack all my clothes and put them away in the closet. Instead, I only take out what I absolutely need to get by for the immediate future. After that, I’m hoping to be in my own place.

The Pepto Bismol pink walls already feel like they’re closing in on me. I need to look for a job. I’m starting dental school at Boston University in January. I applied too late to start for the fall semester, but I can use the extra time to find employment and get settled in an apartment. A fresh start is something I could really use, and I plan to make the most of it. This time, I’m not going to fall for some guy with a nice smile. Straight, white teeth might have been one of my weaknesses, but I’m about to be twenty-six and hopefully older and wiser. This is my chance to do things right. It’s the closest I’ll get to a do over and I plan to take advantage of it.