Another full day. And then I had a conversation with a friend and I am still processing it. I will try to write about it. That’s it for now.
So yesterday I mentioned about how being super busy was not leaving me any time to obsessively think about my failed relationship with the love of my life. It would seem, however, that this energy had to go somewhere and so I woke up at 4 am with a stomach ache that quickly turned into a full blown panic attack (not just an anxiety one) which finally culminated in me passing out on the bathroom floor. Good times!
And so starts a week of being busy every waking hour. My hope is that I will be too busy to think about Her.
I will try to keep posting if only to make status updates.
I may not have high hopes but I will be OK if my simple hopes of making it through the next two weeks without being constantly miserable will come true.
I am OK.
I breathe easy.
What’s done is done and it is in the past.
This is a temporary feeling and it is passing.
On the advice of my mind technician, I am supposed to repeat this mantra every time I have an anxiety attack. So far they (the mantra repetitions) work on the physiological level. My heartbeat slows down and gets back to normal but the emotional darkness remains. Though the attack has passed, the thoughts that triggered it are still weighing heavily upon my soul. My soul yearns for You, my darling. It wants to tear out of my chest and fly to You! I have been away from You for over two months and the pain of our separation is just as unbearable now as it was then. Everyone is telling me to move on and to find someone new but as much I try to look at other women, none compare to You. How can I move on if that means letting go of Your memory?
I am not ready. And I still love You.
This morning my mind treated me to another panic attack. Like a broken record my mind goes back to my emotional wound and starts picking on it. I had to run to the bathroom out of sight of my colleagues. Why did I have to fall in love?
Fortunately or unfortunately, I am not confused in my feelings that preoccupy me the most. I am in love. I am in love with someone who does not want me. Someone who asked me not to contact her ever again. I know what I want the most. And that is something I can never have.
What I am not so clear about is where to go from here. How am I supposed to live if the one person I want to live for does not care if I live or die?
I miss her but I know I will never hold her in my arms again.
Why did I have to fall in love?
Some days are better, some are worse. Today is a bad one. There is a lot of anxiety, and stress, and sadness. This is one of those days when I feel Her absence stronger than most days. If only I could hear Her voice reassuring me that everything is going to be OK… Alas, as I am freaking out in my room, all there is is a ringing silence.
I also feel that I desperately need a drink. I’m hoping to be able to resist. Trying to kill this pain with booze is a road that leads to way worse shit than I already am in up to my neck.
As stupid and unhealthy as it is, I can not not think about Her and tell myself that She won’t be there when I come through. I need Her!
Fuck this shit!!!
My dearest love,
Today I have made another step in trying to move on. Clearly, the road ahead of me is hard and painful. I remember how just recently we came to this same place for rock climbing. Your excited face upon having completed a route stands before my tear-filled eyes as if it happened mere seconds ago rather than months. You were scared first but You overcame your fears and I was so proud of You and happy for You.
I have loved rock climbing for years but now it does not feel the same without you by my side. The smell of chalk, the burning skin of my palms from gripping the rock, the spectacular views,
nothing gives me pleasure anymore.
How do I forget You? How do I love again without You? How do I just start taking pleasure in things I have always loved?
Tomorrow is another day and everyone keeps telling me that very soon I am certain to meet someone who will love me as much as I would love them.
But all I want is You! All I want is your love!
Will I ever see You again? Will our lives cross paths? Will You cross to another side of the street if you see me coming?
As much as I wish to stop loving You I do not want to stop loving You. How could I not love You?
I miss You. I want You in my life. And I still love You.
I’m having trouble concentrating. Although this should be a happy morning, the reality seems to be leaving a lot to be desired. I am invited to a BBQ at my old climbing partner’s and long time friend’s house. Normally free food makes me giddy but somehow today it has lost its allure. Later on I will be going to the theatre to try to get back into improv. I took time away from it for a few weeks to try to get some perspective.
There’s a maelstrom of “what if’s” and “if only’s” swirling around in my mind. I turn around onto my stomach and put the pillow under my chest for more comfort.
The time stops.
Somehow surviving the washing machine or maybe coming off something else a single strand of Her hair is laying on my bed sheets.
My heart starts beating harder and harder and it becomes difficult to breathe and to keep typing this post. My mind is burning up with sorrow.
What do I do? I know I will not just get rid of it. I can’t!!!
What if… If only…
I don’t know anything any more.
I thought the crying time was over by now but apparently I was wrong. I saw a picture a girl took of her sleeping boyfriend the way She used to do and tears filled my eyes. When will this torture called a broken heart end?
“Standing on my head at edge of the ledge,”
– Holmes Brothers, “Edge Of The Ledge”, Feed My Soul (2010)
Love. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. It is madness that we welcome often enough with open arms and end up cursing with abandon, oozing pain from our shattered hearts.
The Wikipedia article on love has a great note that “diversity of uses and meanings, combined with the complexity of the feelings involved, makes love unusually difficult to consistently define, compared to other emotional states.” It also quotes a 2004 article by Helen Fisher “Why We Love: .” “Love may be understood as part of the survival instinct, a function to keep human beings together against menaces and to facilitate the continuation of the species.” But what happens when that becomes the opposite? What happens when things fall apart, when that love is unanswered? I’m not trying to question the necessity of love or rail against it. That would be an exercise in futility and there’s not enough strength for that. Rather my goal is to attempt to unravel the tangled emotional mess that I find myself in.
What do we do when love is unrequited? Do we keep the feelings hidden inside? I suspect there is no one right answer. As I am only going through this currently, I won’t know whether my actions thus far have been correct. One would have to be rather removed from the traumatic event in question in order to gain some sort of objectivity. The one thing that has been going through my mind though is that in general we tend to hide that which we are ashamed of the most. Humans in general tend to avoid unpleasant things. In psychology this is know as the pleasure principle. When it comes to yours truly, due to various psychological issues mentioned in the previous posts, this drive (especially the part about avoiding unpleasant things) is present in spades. So what to do?
I admit, I was possibly being selfish when I sent the message to Her professing my feelings. Most of the things I had said can be found in my previous posts: A Cut Too Deep and … And Darkness Falls. I suppose I was overcome by a sense of defiance against an unfair universe and desire to be open about my feelings. I have held things inside for so long that now it has become problematic to keep them out of sight. It is true though that I have not really considered what Her emotions would be upon the receipt of my tear-filled missive. I assumed from our conversations, from when we were together, that She simply would not care and forget it soon thereafter. I have not expected Her to be angry and especially not angry enough to send me the type of message that She did. I have not expected Her to think so much less of me as a person.
Am I deluding myself? Am I really “small, petty and jealous”? Well, jealous is a “yes.” That often goes hand-in-hand with heartbroken. But I truly do want Her to be happy and I truly am tremendously sad that it can’t be with me. And I still love Her so much that her absence is painful beyond anything I have experienced. Not having her in my life is the greatest sense of loss that I have ever experienced. I have poured out so many feelings on this blog to try to come to terms with them. I have made WordPress my daily routine. Yet, it was not enough. Was it self-indulgence, jealousy, pride, self-importance, or some other negative trait that has pushed me to tell Her how I felt? Perhaps. Perhaps it was all of them. Perhaps I am simply trying to rationalise my actions. I hope though that was not the case and that it was motivated by only love and desire to not be ashamed of my own feelings. That letter was written as a stream of consciousness in a fit of deepest sorrow, and passion, and love, such that while writing it I had to occasionally stop to wipe snot and tears of my face for I had trouble breathing and seeing the screen. I hope that She will understand it one day and find it in her heart to forgive me and my emotional foibles.
And I still love Her.