What Is Left To Do.

It’s my Sunday. It’s overcast and spitting rain which means I won’t be able to zone out at the park today. I have little errands to run and some house stuff to attend to but it’s been a productive weekend for me so I’m procrastinating a bit. I went and got a physical yesterday, glad it’s done with. It was uncomfortable but quick, as they usually are. In-and-out in 10 minutes (hardy-har). I’d like to meet someone who really enjoys being probed by a stranger… Anyway!

I sent NB a message the other night before bed, after debating for some time whether I needed to or not. Turns out I felt the need to apologize for how things ended and to clarify a couple of things about our final conversation. I feel like it was the right call. Perhaps I was apologizing on behalf of him, knowing I won’t ever get the apology I feel I deserve. I’m creating my own closure here. Whether he responds or not is irrelevant, I said what I had to. I meticulously thought out what exactly I was feeling and pressed send once I knew I didn’t have ulterior motives in doing so. So here we are, over two weeks without communication at all. The days are passing painfully slow. I feel different than I did in the first week. I’m exhausted. And the sadness is now coming in waves. I crave even more alone time, and I’m sensitive to every kind of stimulus around me. I guess this is normal for a break up? I’m getting smacked with insignificant memories which hurt regardless of how ridiculous/unimportant they were. Swallowing how much I miss him is no easy feat. I feel like I’m drinking poison.

All that is left to do is start moving on, I suppose. Is progress measurable when it comes to break ups? I don’t feel like I’m making any. I’m still in shock. I’m still angry. I’m still wondering how I will ever get close to another person in that way. I’m not going to go on dating sites. I’m not going to be able to have rebound sex. I just won’t. I know myself. I can’t drink this away. I can’t fuck this away. I can’t work this away. I just have to feel it, I guess? How long is it going to hurt like this? How many more hours do I have to jolt myself back to reality and remind myself he isn’t coming back?

In other news, I’m booking my flights back to Onterrible for the holidays. I’m being forced to visit, as my sister is having a baby in October and apparently family members are supposed to care about that sort of thing. Last trip home I took was an awful time, so I’m hellbent on making this one better. I won’t be staying with my parents, which was part of the reason everything went to shit during my previous visit, and I’ll be sober! I hope the sobriety makes dealing with my insane mother a bit more manageable (although intuition tells me the opposite).

Speaking of sobriety, July 25th is my 3 month mark. Feels like it’s been years.

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