the hardest breakup

i have to break up with my bar.

i know that sounds like a stupid sentence, but when it’s been the place you go, FOR YEARS, it feels like a pretty big deal.

i’ve been going to the same bar, off and on, for dang on forever. i’ve said it before, i’ll say it a thousand times: as a single woman, when you find a good bartender, you stick with them. to be realistic, there have been some gaps over the years- when i moved to the valley, the covid shutdown, some mental health hermit phases, but for the most part, same bar. same ass. same barstool. years. 

it started as therapy- i was required to go out where the people are at least once a week. two hours at the bar is two drinks, then i can go home. my therapist thought it was weird i had to come up with a whole plan and a math equation to be able to do it, but I DID IT, so that’s what counted.

as the years progressed, some nights i ended up staying out and talking to people. some nights i took people home. some nights i barely stayed for a shot, some nights i knew better than to take that last shot. i’ve been there at opening and i’ve closed down the bar.

i know the bartenders. i know the regulars. it’s got the good patio with the good traffic to watch. it’s got good art and 90’s music from high school. it has great fries and it had good burgers (pulled from the menu, sad days). it’s comfortable. it’s familiar. it’s my living room away from home.

and it’s time to say goodbye.

there have been warning signs popping up over the last few months that i’ve been diligently trying to ignore: then nights when there’s not a single familiar person and i feel like a stranger. the nights when the energy is so wrong i can’t imagine how i ever felt at home.

i remember one night after a work on a sunday a few months ago, nothing special, no chaos, no drama, nothing strange, but i just sat at the bar and felt SO EXTREMELY OUT OF PLACE. three people. one bartender. sports on the tv. nothing. literally nothing. not a comment, not a side eye, not a weird conversation. nothing. just me, sitting in the quiet thinking WHY AM I HERE? this doesn’t feel like me. i should have walked out then, instead i convinced myself the feeling would pass.

spoiler alert: it hasn’t passed.

there’s ways the universe lets you know.

nights when the whole bar is an eskimo village. nights when your tab is triple because they charge you the wrong price but you don’t want to argue. nights when you listen to people go on unhinged transphobic and homophobic rants that make trans patrons cry. nights when you notice everyone going to the bathroom two by two and you don’t remember signing up for a ski trip. the moment you realize that even though 90% of patrons are gay, they won’t put up a pride flag because they “don’t want to be known as that.”

nights when you just realize- this is no longer for me.

i’ve been in my head a lot lately; filled up most of a journal in just the last month. there’s been a lot of signs that change has been coming. i didn’t know from where. tried a job interview. tried going out with new people to new places. tried looking for new clothes online. i’ve felt it coming, but honestly didn’t expect the universe to take aim at my bar.

MY BAR?

really?

last night the hammer dropped pretty hard.

the word DISCERNMENT has been the sesame street word of the week at my house. discernment is one step beyond intuition to me. intuitions is the knowing; the deep gut knowing. you can’t explain it, there’s no proof, there’s no evidence or examples, but you KNOW. discernment is what you do with that knowing. is it important? is it relevant? what is it showing? how does it impact you? discernment separates and asks the question: now that you know, does this still belong here? discernment is the space between who you are, and who you are being. between the life you want and the life you’re maintaining.

while that message has been coming through, loud and clear, over and over, last night took the added step of adding to the message: what are you not letting go of? what no longer belongs? there’s something you’re not letting go of, and it’s obstructing you. OBSTRUCTING. not just blocking. not something you can work around. straight up OBSTRUCTED. do not pass go. something you’ve been using as avoidance and escapism. people who don’t have your best interest at heart. toxic people and backstabbers. you can’t be in those circles and settings any more. the longer you grip onto it, the more decay it will bring into your life.

ummmmmm…well. fuck.

i mean. jesus. do you have cameras IN THE BAR? well, i mean, i know there’s cameras in the bar. i just didn’t know my guides were…always…watching…and…like…

oh shut up.

of course they were watching and saw it all, even the things i didn’t or haven’t.

it’s a pretty clear message: let go or decay.

it’s a silly little change. it won’t be noticeable to anyone but me. my two hours on tuesdays and occasional saturday afternoon won’t be missed. i know i can go out where the people are without an assignment now. i know i’m not going to backslide to hermit mode. there’s no ripples in the pond from this decision. there’s no cataclysmic collapse of anything. i’ll get off the bus one stop later. i’ll walk home one block north. i’ll buy vodka lemonade seltzers to keep in my fridge and maybe a lawn chair to sit out front and watch traffic. life will go on, maybe even move forward.