Being (self) Published…

A year ago today, I was fighting for my relationship. Fighting for my boyfriend to spend more time with me, more time on us, more time on the family dynamic we were looking for, and to spend more time present in life, and less time focused on his computer, his clients, and his job. He was hugely successful at what he did for work, and becoming more successful with each new client, and project he took on. This wasn’t the only struggle we had though.

There was also the fight for him to understand, that I couldn’t break through the emotional disconnect with his kids, and our relationship without his help. Of course we were still at odds over the living situation, and his inability to decide what he wanted and when. We had been together a little over two years at this point.

The night we broke-up, I was at work all day, he was at home working until his kids got out of school, then we were supposed to have dinner with a close family friend of his and her kids. The plan, was for him to text me with the time for dinner, then T and I would go over there, and we would all enjoy pizza, and some yummy St. Patrick’s Day dessert. I didn’t hear one word, text or smoke signal from him all day. So, I went and grabbed a celebratory beverage with some girl friend’s from work, and then drove to his house to see what the hell was going on.

Here’s the thing… admittedly, I was always a little jealous of his close family friend. She is gorgeous, super sweet, and so hard to not like. I liked her, and fully expected to find her, and her kids at his house when I got there.

What I found when I did get there rocked me to my core.

His kids were immersed in their computer world, wrapped in blankets, oblivious to the world celebrating St. Patrick’s Day around them, and he was sitting on his couch, beer in hand, watching a movie. Oh, and dinner was cooking on the stove. when the whole picture of what was going on in his house came together, I realized that, not only did he have no problem with the fact that he was changing our plans for the evening without telling me, but he had also not spoken to me all day, and didn’t seem phased by it. As a consolation, he did look happy, if not surprised, to see me unannounced at his house. When I asked him why I hadn’t heard from him all day, and what was going on, while pointing at the stove, his comment was “well you didn’t reach out to me all day either, and I had the date wrong for dinner.”

Clearly I had to call him first?! Stupid, immature and absolutely ridiculous.

As you can see, it was clearly not on his list of priorities to take a moment to let me know that one, we weren’t having dinner with his friend (who is a friend of mine currently), and two, he was making dinner for him and his kids. T and I weren’t invited, obviously.

To give you a final piece of background info, this was actually, the first time we had seen each other in the two weeks we had been back from our trip to Bermuda. His work schedule didn’t allow for any face time with me, beyond my surprise visit on that St. Patrick’s Day.

In any case, we argued about everything, privately, away from the eyes and ears of his kids, and to make a long story short, he said “I don’t know how to put us before my job, and clients. Tell me what you want me to do.” I had already done that… Many times. At my wit’s end, I told him to get his shit together or we were done, and then I walked out of his house.

One year, to the day, later and here I am, a published author, and still a single Pringle. As a way for me to get over him, I wrote a letter to him, every time I was sad, thinking about him, wanting to call him, was reminded of him or even mad at him. It seemed a little odd at first, but then it started to feel cathartic, and freeing. This method of writing letters to my ex was helping me to realize where I went wrong, where we went wrong, where he went wrong, what I wanted, and what I didn’t want. Through my heartache, I was finding myself again and it felt good.

The idea of turning my coping mechanism into a book for others to read, didn’t come to me until a few months ago. It dawned on me that this is what people need to know: That they are not alone. That there are others in the world who have gone through it, and survived. That the end is only the beginning, and going from heartache to happiness takes time, but it can be done.

If I can help at least one person through my account of the last year, then I can count my mission as accomplished.

With that, all of it, having been said, I am completely over the moon excited to announce that; Letters to my Ex, is now available for purchase on Amazon and Kindle. I have included the links below.

It isn’t a huge novel but a small, yet intimate, collection of my private thoughts, musings, and memories from the last year. I hope you love it as much as I once loved him.

With all my love ~ a

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Until next time…

Amazon link to order a paperback:

Kindle Link to order an eBook:



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