To the outside world, I think I appear completely normal, though beneath the surface I have been awash with all the fear and pain and anger that I worked so hard to keep at bay for all those months. I can do nothing but stand in its current and let it rush past me for it is bigger than little ol’ me. A lot bigger.
I miss him desperately.
I am furious with him.
I love him.
I am walking the precipice of every heart that’s ever beaten. Great wars were started over broken hearts because it is a languishing, vile pain. It’s there when you awake and still watching you as you sink into your dreams. It cheers at your deepest insecurities and chides the hope you try to build.
I haven’t slept in two days because the thought of completely losing him from my life is too painful.
I have the delightful and dubious pleasure of a documented relationship and when I dip into the past, the distant TN and Hy past, I can see the turmoil I was in. My heart was in limbo, he was distant and non-committal, but when he chose to share himself with me I stuffed him inside of me in every way I could. Little nibbles here and there in my mouth and in my soul.
He has always been him and I will not allow myself to fault him for it. I am determined to remember his love for me and shroud myself within that memory as I work through all the rest.
I always knew he would leave me. I think he always knew. I wrote about it extensively and worked hard to live in the moment. I never let him address the strange state of our relationship in that way as I tried to stretch the clock. I was complicit in our pseudo-status.
Weeks and a river of tears later I have come to terms that it has run its course and the only thing for me to do now is to accept it — and him — with grace and loving memory.
There are other men on the horizon as always. Men who may help me heal, men who may be better for me. I might even have one between my legs today.