This was the first evening since this all began that I've felt okay just on my own. I've been so used to hanging out with other people, and with Brian before that, that I'd forgotten the visceral goodness of sidling up to a burrito, pouring myself a glass of apple juice and indulging in episodes of the HBO-serial-I-shall-never-again-reference-by-name.

Rachael informed me today that most crises take about 6-8 weeks to get over. Given that the clock is running up to the 8 week mark, I figure I should do my best to ritualize the end of this ending.

Ordinarily one gets to the finish line and snaps a ribbon across the chest. But since this 6-8 week period is best described by the metaphor of me holding a flame for the "us" while Brian has tended much more to his own interests, I've decided to use the last of my leftover Chanukah candles (evening #6 was spent lighting someone else's menorah) to bring this all to a close.

So I've now lit one, and will light one each night until they're gone, at which point I hope to be through the worst of this breakup and happily engaged in life, liberty and the pursuit of other sources of happiness.