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 six 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 a place to move into. Joseph needs me to move 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 about to have a baby in the next few 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 couple hours of traveling distance 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 don’t get to see them nearly enough, especially Reagan. With her spending four years in California for college, she only came 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 fiance 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 an endless 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 better 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 truly 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 with love. When did the glow of love that surrounded us wane?

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 wouldn’t 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 of my possessions other than clothes and necessities to a storage unit in Southie he’s prepaid for the next six months. The rest I packed into the trunk and back seat of my year old Volvo S80 he purchased for me. I’m sure his eagerness to help me with the storage facility and allowing me to keep the car is motivated by good old-fashioned guilt.

Now that I’ve gained some distance from him, 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 does one go about finding herself when she can’t even remember where she got lost?

* * *

Glancing around my old pink bedroom, I feel like I’ve landed in an alternate universe. 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 teased me about my unorthodox name. As a result, I began to overcompensate by wearing as much pink as I possibly could. After all, pink is 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 couldn’t bring myself to unpack all my clothes and put them away in the closet. Instead, I only took out what I absolutely need to get by for the immediate future. After that, I’m hoping to be in my own place.

I’ve been here for two days and the 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 at the beginning of September. I’ve got five months to get my life in order so I can begin there with a clean slate. A fresh start is something I could really use. This time, I’m not going to fall for some guy with a nice smile. Straight, white teeth might be one of my weaknesses, but I’m older and wiser now. This is my chance to do things right. It’s the closest I’ll get to a redo and I plan to take advantage of it.