(first draft – may play with this one some more because it made me laugh – ag)

My relationship status is:

Signing up for self-defense classes.
Terrified of being alone for the rest of my life.
Still in shock.
Good enough to be nominated but not good enough to win.

The book was better.
I love myself, dammit.
Empty nest; broken heart.
Abandoned without answers.
I’m rubber; she’s glue.
Socially awkward workaholic.
None of your beeswax.

Pending psychoanalysis I haven’t signed up for.
Enjoying my own company, but it would be nice to have someone else to run things by.

Disappointed, but grateful for the good times.
(To the tune of Merle Haggard) Are the Good Times Really Over? And were the good times really as good as we remember? And are the bad things that happened really that bad when all is said and done?
Still can’t stand the thought of a man telling me what to do.

Demisexual running out of time.
Mourning the loss of my ovaries.
Mulligan or no?
You scrolled through the pictures – it’s pretty much just me and the cat.

Refuse to be framed as anyone’s crazy ex-
My own family functions are more than I can handle. Don’t make me go to yours, too.

Lost in a black hole with no delusion that anyone will ever love me again.

Just kidding; I’m Divorced Single. Confused. Too old for this sh!t. xoxo

P.S. If you’ve been divorced for 18 years are you still “divorced?”