When it rains, it pours.

You know, I like to do things big. What is it, Go big or go home? Yes. That. I figure, you know? I already lost my job, what else can I do? And so begins the story of how I lost a job and a relationship in less than two weeks. The only way to start fresh is to start at rock bottom, right? HERE IT IS.

To be honest, I'd known for some time that my relationship was missing something. Some integral piece that I need for a relationship to feel whole. I knew this. He knew this. It actually all came to a head last week with a discussion. But here is this person -- this great, fun, funny person -- who was able to make me laugh, able to sit on the couch with me for hours on end watching our favorite TV, and able to share my passion for running, so I was OK. I was able to weigh the pros and cons, and while sometimes they were really quite even, I was content.

Then yesterday he sat on my couch and informed me in the most emotionally detached, mechanical way possible, that indeed, something was missing. And no, this relationship wasn't working. And yes, we should "end things romantically." And by the way, I have your things, all of the things you ever brought to my apartment, packed in a bag, in my car, let me get them for you. And so he did. He set my things, all of them packed in a bag, on my coffee table, asked for a hug, told me he was sorry, and then said goodbye.

Just like that. No conversation. No fleeting moments. No feelings.

It was like I was losing my job all over again, because just like then, I sat, stared blankly, nodded where appropriate, and watched, confused, as these people I cared for acted like robots and told me it was over. Then, just like them, he walked out of the room and that was that. Like none of it ever mattered. Although to him, none of it probably ever did. And here all I wanted to do yesterday was carve a fucking pumpkin.

So I did, only I did it alone. Sat on my kitchen floor, music playing, candles burning, and carved my stupid pumpkin all by myself, into a dopey, fang-having jack-o-lantern that I really quite love.

So this, my dear people, is how you get yourself to rock bottom, only so you can kick and scream and claw your way back to the top. And I'll get there to that elusive top. You just wait. Until then, it's just me and my pumpkin. And all of the things packed in a bag.