Not now.

November 20th, 2017 § 0 comments


It finally hit me today that it’s over. It’s been twenty-one days since you broke up with me. I am still in shock, still mourning our future. But today, while I was doing nothing in particular, I realized you’re not coming back, we’re not on pause. And that I need to move on. The grieving process has been a slow undoing, shedding off the layers of you. I still am waiting for you to call and say you’ve made a mistake but the longer I wait the more foolish I feel. I can’t wait forever. And part of me thinks I will always be in waiting, forever. And I feel anger now. At you. For taking up so much space in this town, in my life. I feel anger. I feel anger. I feel anger because my heart wants to make a clean break of it. If I see you, I want to tell you to fuck off. Because you had no right… And here’s where the anger dissolves, and becomes something more complicated. You had every right to take care of yourself. Am I angry at the trauma you went through that made it so you have a difficult time setting boundaries? No, I am saddened by that. Truly, I don’t want you to feel unnecessary pain. Once again, I find that I am begging to hate you and I’m coming up with only love. Am I angry that you’re trying to heal yourself? Of course not. I wish it had happened sooner, I wish we could still be together. I wish I could brush my teeth with you, our socked feet touching. And we could once again ride in my car, singing along to Mariah Carey. I wish I could be in your arms, feeling safe and loved and held. My heart can’t make a clean break of this. I am shedding. Every day without you is another reference point for my life without you. Every day the future looks a little different. There is far less of you in it. Maybe one day, we can laugh and hold each other and sing badly. Maybe one day we can be there for each other to confide in, to bring each other soup and understanding. I don’t know when that day will come. I can’t wait for it any longer. If you want to be with me, you’re going to have to do the work. I’ll be over here, reading by the fire, writing a novel, spending time with my chosen family, cuddling my dog. Maybe one day you’ll be back in that picture. But not today. Not now. It’s over.


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