Moving On: The Post-Breakup Apartment

I spent months deciding the new color, and on the day I was to go to Home Depot to purchase the paint, I balked. If I were to bring a guy home with me, wouldn't the cumulative effect of red walls in a small cave of a place be similar to announcing "Welcome to my vagina"? I nixed the color and decided to just move the furniture around. In doing so, I opened up the room and created a faux living area, with the sofa and my reading chair set across from the other. There was even room for a small coffee table when the time comes to buy one, no hurry. I put up pictures I wanted, and stowed the ones I never cared for. When I was done, I sat in my room awestruck at the overall effect—a difference that was made simply by moving things around. I no longer felt cramped. I was alone, yes, but not lonely. I felt comfortable and happy to be exactly where I was.

That night, January 21, 2008, I was much more specific when it came to capturing my feelings on the new change. "I've arrived," I wrote. "Didn't feel it six months ago when I first moved in but now, at this moment, my heart is full, my head is clear, and I can't wait to see what happens next."

More from YourTango: Why Getting Dumped Was The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me

This is the final essay in Pilar Anderson's three-part breaking up series.