Hello world. It’s me. Randy.

Guess what? I’m single. Again.

Back in December of last year, I mustered enough energy and enough courage to end my relationship of 8+ years. We owned a home together. We owned a car together. We spent vacations together as most couples do. He was on my health insurance. We even had two kids. One cat and one dog actually.

I had a garden in our home that I tended. That I nurtured for over 6 years. One day in this garden, I was pruning the branches off a Japanese maple and thought to myself: It will be beautiful to see this grow over the course of the next 10-20 years. It made me smile and I was proud of what I had.

Our neighbors and friends all knew us as the perennial gay couple with that crazy dog and the gorgeous blue MINI Cooper. We were both physically fit and took good care of ourselves and the household. It was a dream come true.

Or so I thought at the time.

Like most couples, we’ve had our ups and downs over the years. But we managed to get through all of it. The trials and tribulations of a gay couple – of any couple – is the price you pay for being in a relationship. I know all that. We were different in so many ways, but we made it work for the most part. He was a recovering alcoholic; I was a social drinker. He was a social butterfly; I was a wallflower introvert. He has a sibling; I’m an only child. The list goes on and on.

I could spend hours analyzing the depth and breadth of our relationship, but I’m not here to write about the past. No. That was Book Three on my Chronicles of Life. I’m here to talk about Book Four and this is Chapter One.

It was early November, after I returned from a business trip in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. We had just finished watching the new James Bond movie, Skyfall, and had a big blow up about dinner. This wasn’t unique at all. Whenever he got hungry and his blood sugar was low, the Incredible Hulk would manifest itself. I had no way to defend myself. It was always a losing battle, so we’d scream at each other.

Being an introvert, my energy was easily drained after a heated argument. So, I went into my shell and go into my “reclusive hermit mode.” Needless to say, I was not the most effective communicator, but neither was he. After about a week of silence, (yes, a week) he disclosed to me that he started to see a therapist about his moods and to try to improve his communication style. Unbeknownst to him, I made efforts to do the same.

After week two of therapy, right before Thanksgiving week, he took me aside and asked me to listen to his confession. Part of me already knew what he was about to say, so I wasn’t surprised at all. But as all good, long term couples go, we’d each rather live in denial than confront the inevitable.

It took him a lot of energy and courage, that much I can say, for him to tell me. He couldn’t look me in the eyes at first and then I knew what I suspected. He said that he cheated on me.  I asked him with who. He said that he cheated on my multiple times with multiple partners. It felt like I got hit in the gut. I knew this already. I told him I suspected. He didn’t tell me how long he cheated on me, but he did say he went to the sex clubs in the city to get satisfied. I felt embarrassed and humiliated.

Then I recalled all those days where he went off on a “bike ride” or when he “went to the other gym two miles away” or when he decided to “go to a coffee shop to do some work”. I was shattered. It probably went as far back as two years. I was devastated.

The holiday season was upon me. I withdrew from all social gatherings. Thanksgiving came and went; as did Christmas. I slept in the spare bedroom on the most uncomfortable futon on the planet. The pain on my body was nothing compared to the pain in my heart and soul. I came to the conclusion that only two options lay before me: 1) To stay in the relationship and work things out, after all it was over an 8 year investment already; or 2) To start anew and have hope that I can heal from this and move on with my life without him.

I chose the latter. Right before New Year’s Eve I told him. I told him that I could never love him the way he wanted me to ever again. His actions were unforgivable. I couldn’t even look him in the eye without feeling the pain in my heart. Trust was shattered and irreparable. I must move on.

And move on I did. I decided to start fresh and give him the majority of the household items. I gave up the beautiful townhouse, the relaxing garden, the $1 million view and privacy of a home. I packed up my personal items and took the dog with me. I found a comfortable apartment that was close to work and close to the grocery store. I eventually gave up the car too.

So here I am. Single. A single gay man living in Seattle. New Year’s Day came and went; and so did my birthday. Good friends always appear when you need them the most and for that I’m grateful.

It’s been over 6 months of living alone, but I’m getting used to it. I’ve made a couple of awesome new friends and look forward to many more. Chapter One is always the hardest part to get through. It’s setting up the characters, giving you a taste of what’s happened, and tiny glimpse of what’s to be.

It’s time for me to start manifesting. I almost ready to date again. I can feel it.