There are so many thought strands going through my head tonight that I don’t even know how to start to unravel and process them. There are things I want to say, but they can’t all be woven into the same post, and I am scared that if I do not note down the ideas then they will disappear.
I’m doing what I have been told, I’m using writing as a form of therapy. I’m getting it out there instead of letting it fester in my wonky top box.
I’ve been thinking about the weekend my person and I met. I’ve been wondering how I managed to get through it when he broke my heart about five hours after we met. ‘There is not enough of a spark’. Those words cut like a knife and shredded any hope leaving the previous 4 months I had spent falling love in tatters.
I’m sure some of you know that feeling, that hopeless, sick to the bottom of your stomach feeling. Perhaps it is a little worse for someone like me with anxiety but I think the underlying feelings of loss and heartache are pretty much the same for us all.
It was hard to try to smile and be normal when I felt anything but. I felt like I had lost everything, that I had lost him, because I knew there was no way anything was going to be the same in our relationship.
I tried to hide it and say that it was ok, this was what I expected and I guess it was, but I wasn’t ok, I was hurting. There is this moment when you want someone to see past the outside and look straight to the inside. Everyone says that is what counts, but it isn’t, or at least it has never been for me anyway.
I found Sunday the hardest day that weekend. I was emotionally exhausted because at night I would play every detail of our friendship over in my head and wonder how I had got things so terribly wrong. How had I even let myself get into this situation. I also knew that in a few hours I was going to have to say goodbye to this person for possibly the last time. I tried to hide it, but I think he knew.
I am one of those people who wears a mask. I will pretend that everything is all right but when I am alone, that is when I am at my most vulnerable.
I wish sometimes that the people who hurt us could experience just an ounce of that pain so that they could understand that everything cannot return to normal all at once.