This Is Where I’m At.

I read the newest post from one of my favourite bloggers this morning and was (as always) struck with envy that she could just write, even when she didn’t know how or what to say, or have an idea in mind. That is something I struggle with daily. I wake up saying “I will write today” and then lose motivation when I realize I don’t know what I want to say, or how to begin getting to the point I want to make.

Today I’m going to do something different. Today I’m just going to write.

I feel split down the middle. I want to forget what’s happened between NB and I while simultaneously straining to keep his face clear in my head. I want to make sure I deal with all of my emotions as they come, but don’t know if I’m repressing my pain or I’m just not feeling much of anything.

I took the cats to the vet yesterday morning by myself, I felt accomplished. I made an appointment with my Dr. for next week to get a physical (to ease some of the nagging worries from this whole situation). I even did some groceries. I went for a ‘mocktail’ with Roomie at our work, too. I felt somewhat social and did my best not to mope. Underneath all of it though I’m a little concerned about my lack of hysteria. Maybe this is how Sober Lana handles things. I’ve never gone through a break-up/trauma without totally losing my shit. I’m certainly moody, and prone to fits of my brain saying ‘what the fuck’ over and over, but generally I’ve got it together. I haven’t wanted to drink this week. I haven’t even thought about it, really.

I am sad, naturally. That is the expected response to loss. I have moments of stabbing pain when I realize he isn’t the person at the door. My phone occasionally buzzes and I hesitate to look at it, because I know it isn’t him. I lay in the spot we used to at the park and I watch every car drive by not be one of his. I miss him, sure, but I’m unable to think about the memories that will cause me agony. Maybe it’s too fresh? Maybe I’m in shock? Denial?

I see silhouettes of people coming home from work, out for a walk, or taking out the garbage and I know by their gaits that it isn’t him. I will learn to stop looking up. I will learn to stop scanning the drivers of the cars that pass. You know this is the longest we’ve gone with no communication? I will learn to stop counting the hours and days. Maybe this will all sink in eventually and part of me fears the day it does. I can’t cry right now and I can’t find anything new to say about it.

What I can feel is heat deep inside me. I am angry. A comment I heard from a coworker this week was that my ‘spark’ has gone out. I was never really the ‘sparky’ type before him. I sit and stare at nothing for hours now. I don’t look at my phone or fidget. I just sit. I wait. Before I know it, hours have passed. I will learn to stop hoping. Stop waiting. Stop missing. Stop being spark-less. Stop being empty. Stop seeking answers. Stop being angry.

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