“don’t get relationship tattoos”

A week ago, my partner of ten years broke up with me with very little warning. I came home from work and he had an IPad note full of reasons why it wasn’t working out. For context on how little warning I received, he had gotten a tattoo to commemorate our tenth anniversary two weeks earlier (classic, right? Don’t get relationship tattoos!). I was devastated for about two days before it became clear that I do not need his dead weight following me into the coming apocalypse. All of my friends and family have been incredible, even in this difficult climate. They all have taken a moment to tell me he is trash, lazy, and a waste of my time. During the big “break up talk” he kept reiterating how much he babies me and takes care of me, but this crisis really brought to light how little he did for me and how much he relied on me for everything. I was really turning into a glorified nanny to an underemployed adult. Cut to the full LA lockdown, he has not done any shopping, we are both working from home, and he is incredibly angry because he isn’t receiving the type of sympathy from his family he thought he would. I was planning to ride out the pandemic, and the last 30 days of our lease, in our apartment out of stubbornness, but now I’m packing my snacks and the dog and moving to my brother’s house. Nothing like a pandemic to remind you you’re going to be ok!