Thursday, August 4, 2011

Breaking Up Is Hard to Do

A week and a half ago, my boyfriend informed me that we were over.

It's been a hard week and a half.

Knitting has been difficult; I learned to knit so I could make him a scarf, and I think about that every time I pick up my needles. I've managed to distract myself with friends long enough to get a few things done, but it's been difficult.

We're trying to remain friends, because he still cares about me (just not like that) and I still love him (because I can't not) and we've already signed a lease with a friend, so we need to get along.

I miss him terribly. I miss us terribly. I've never felt a pain like this. It's physically tangible, not just emotional. There's a constant, hard knot in my chest that I'm starting to be able to ignore, but is always there, regardless.

Nobody ever told me a broken heart felt like this. It's the worst feeling I have ever experienced. I can't say my life has been roses; it certainly hasn't. My father's abandonment, my mother's emotional and verbal abuse, abject poverty, and eventual estrangement from my family... It's not like any of that was ever easy.

But it was never this hard. Waking up each morning and knowing my world has fallen apart, that I've lost a piece of myself, that I've lost the most important thing in my life, and that was my Love...

I want my life back. I want my boyfriend - my lover and best friend and family, all rolled into one - I want him back. I want to look at him and know he loves me, that we'll make it through anything.

I want to wake up tomorrow morning and find out this was all just a terrible dream, and everything's actually okay.

I love him. That can't change; I thought I'd be with him til the end. I can't let it go, I can't let him go.

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