Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash
It’s worth mentioning that aside from the passing of Day 21 into Day 22, nothing significant had occurred or changed. My circumstances were precisely the same because the day before, and admittedly, some were but ideal: I was still technically “homeless,” living in an Airbnb I had rented after leaving the apartment my ex and that I shared I was undecided about where I wanted to measure, and whether I might move to a special country (third-culture kid problems)
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I didn’t experience an upgrade in my professional or financial situation that might are cause for a morale boost I wasn’t dating someone new And no, I hadn’t just gotten laid Feeling such a dramatic difference in my overall self, but with no concrete event to credit for the transformation, I looked to my calendar and journals for clues. Finding that exactly three weeks and at some point had passed since my crossing back to singlehood put a “huh” smirk on my face. it had been then that I started thinking back to my previous relationships and breakups. I dug pretty deep; I even looked back to old chats with friends from years before remembering what happened on which day, and to recall what I used to be feeling and doing on those dates. Lo and behold, I found that history was repeating itself: three weeks of misery, followed by an identical transformation.
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