It's Me, Sara Louise

I don’t even know if I’m going to hit publish on this or not, but I’m feeling my feels, and I need to let them out, and this space is my therapy, my meditation, my moment of zen.

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Today, I went to my storage unit and pulled out two large suitcases of G’s clothes. I don’t want his bad juju around my things anymore.

Sorting through them to see what could be donated, I thought, “OMFG, this mofo left an entire wardrobe here.”

(My inner thoughts swear a lot.)

He left a whole a** wardrobe!

(Apparently, my outer thoughts do as well.)

Like, who the f**k does that? I mean, I guess it’s part of his double-life agenda because all the gaslighting probably wouldn’t work as well if his side of the closet had been empty, but WTF?

There is some good stuff in those suitcases too. Imagine being so committed to your fraudulent lifestyle that you leave a whole other wardrobe of Zara Men and Ralph Lauren on the other side of the world.

(Btw, That’s how you know I’d never lead a double life, I could never leave my Zara behind.)

If I were less environmentally friendly, I’d invite all of you over for a bonfire, but alas, Mother Nature doesn’t deserve to get effed over by G either (we girls have to stick together).

Turning lemons into lemonade… I popped into my neighborhood thrift store and asked if they took donated men’s clothes. The lovely owner said they did and then asked why I had my ex’s clothes. I gave her a quick recap as I watched her eyes grow bigger.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear more.” She replied. “It sounds like an episode of Dateline.”

(Oh, girl, you have no idea.)

“Well, I have a blog,” I said, smiling as I watched her scrambling to grab a pen.

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P.S. If you’re in the Hudson Valley area and see a bunch of men dressed in French rugby merch, you know why.

P.P.S. Big shoutout to my newest reader, Tina!