Wary of Weekends

So, we’re pushing a week since I said goodbye now, just a couple more days. During the week was hard enough, but the weekends are always harder as there’s so much more empty time during which my mind can run riot with all of its musings. I normally get on and do stuff to distract myself but it’s not always easy.

I decided to go out to town today, to get out of the house and have a nice long walk since it’s colder weather and I don’t overheat for ages but the whole time I was so anxious that I might see you somewhere. I still have no idea what I’d do or how I’d react. If we were walking toward one another I’d probably freeze while I weighed up the options of either continuing toward you and risking a really awkward passing hello which would be insulting to you because you deserve more, or a conversation (which is fairer for us both) in which I’m about as smooth and together as a destroyed teapot or praying that you hadn’t seen me up to that point, changing direction and legging it to whatever extent I could manage before it became obvious and noticeable. If I saw you through a shop window or browsing across the same shop, I’d probably just stiffen up, keep my head down and move on swiftly, ignoring the pang across my chest. But what if you were the one who saw me? Would you come up to me? Or would you experience the same kind of indecision as me? Probably not since you’re much more level headed then me in emotional situations, a trait I am still envious and in admiration of.

Either way, I think I made it through town okay. I bought some pens, grabbed a coffee and marched sternly back up the hill, deflating noticeably once I’d made it out of the central area back to the sanctity of other shifty people with their hands in their pockets and heads down trying to just get on with their journey.

It’s a strange position to be in, for me. I want to see you again, more than anything else, I miss the beauty of your face and the soothing of your voice and the incredibly alluring aura that surrounds you and everything you do. Yet, if I were to see you, I know how much pain would be shooting through me, knowing that we’re physically close to one another but so far apart, that nothing has changed and you’re still not coming back. I still fucking peer eagerly at my front door as I drive up to park my car in case you’re outside waiting for me. I still take a cheeky glance out of the window whenever I’m my kitchen washing up in case you’re walking down the road to knock on my door. I still looking at the cunting sky at night and tell you I miss you and I still jump a mile and get excited when I hear the email notification ping from my phone. It’s probably pathetic and stupid of me. I don’t care. I love you and miss you. I’m not ashamed to feel these things, nor be considered dramatic in my expression of them.

All I know is that I can’t be the one to break the silence this time. If you’re to make things work on your end, I can’t be there on your radar. You need a view of your path ahead without me obscuring it. I have to wait until such a time that you make contact or…I dunno really. I guess only time will tell what the alternative is because, as of right now, I’m losing grip on the tiny slither of hope I had left that you might come back to me.

N.M.

So, before I get to the more emotionally driven stuff I just wanna say something. I know what you’d think upon reading this, that it’s a bit dramz and “a bit much” but I can’t help it. When I’m feeling any emotion strongly I tend to think in quite descriptive and dramatic ways. Life is pretty good in general right now, my parents and I have a better relationship than ever now that we’re not under each other’s feet all the time so when we visit it just feels really good to catch up and enjoy the company. Job’s okay, though I’m beginning to feel like I need to get out. I love having my own place, it’s amazing, and now that the late shift is no longer a thing, I can get into a routine and do more of the things I wanted to as well as shift that grumpiness I had surrounding the late shift.

Also, I know it’s extremely unlikely you’ll ever read this since I don’t think you know of this website currently and may not ever find the link in any of my available profiles, but here we go…

You left over 6 months ago, 5th June 2015. I remember it so well. It’s been a hugely difficult 6 months, most of all for you having to bear the brunt of all my mood swings, from being okay and supportive and loving, to being angry, lonely and despairing. I know it may seem dramatic, but honestly, you are so centred in my mind and life. I love you more than I ever could have imagined, the feeling was almost overwhelming and was the most incredible thing I’ve experienced. It still is. I think about you every day, from the moment I wake right up until I get into bed and go to sleep. But now, after 6 months, there’s another date that won’t be leaving my mind anytime soon, 7th December 2015. It was an emotional day, I heard the best thing in the 6 months that you left, that you still loved me, and that you had considered coming back on occasion but, due to your circumstance, you were unable to make that decision. I understand. I do. And I don’t feel angry or bitter that you do. Just sad. Just upset that two people so in love and so compatible have to be apart. As stupid as it is, I have to wait. I have to see if you come back. I can’t, just can’t let go of you because you are so perfect, so amazing, so beautiful.

But I also said goodbye to you. I feel that I’m just bringing you pain and grief, something which will prevent you from doing what you need to do and being successful in it. It’s killing me. I can’t stand it. It’s like losing you all over again. Knowing I’ll never see you again, or hold you again or even hear your voice or witness your smile. Nothing. None of it. The woman I love, want a future with, want to devote myself to and spend my time making happy. You’re gone. More than likely for good. Just know that I love you, and miss you. Today was difficult for me, more so than other days.

 

I can’t take it. I can’t fucking take it. It’s like I’m out of breath every time I think of you, my thoughts racing to meet completion before it’s too late, before you’ve slipped away completely, to connect with you through will and energy before the channel’s closed. It’s as though the wellness of my body is being drawn away, into the heart, to soften the damage, my body numb to all else, my heart aching and straining under the weight, my mind frantically trying to piece all of it together lest the grief bubbling below detonate and send everything into meltdown. I don’t know what to do. What to do next? It’s not like life stops and my little pleasures are still there, I still smile and laugh and do my best to think positively about my current situation and future. I’m doing so well with my depression these days. But losing you is something I don’t know how to cope with, or if I can cope with it. I can’t move on and I don’t want to. Move on from the perfect woman that I’m in love with to what? I’m happier on my own than with someone that’s not you. And that’s how it will stay until something drastic changes.

 

Like you coming back to me.