“You want this more than me”
Six words. Six little words.
Go, on. Count them.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
Six. Words. That. Broke. My. Heart.
I don’t really remember much about the conversation after we’d had it. But I do remember leaving it feeling like my world had finished right there. I felt like I’d been walking and walking and I’d reached the edge of something and all that I was faced with was nothing.
I remember crying and crying and crying.
I cried so much I felt empty of tears.
I went home, slapped on my happy face, sorted out The Girl and cried some more. I cried until my face felt burned by tears and until my eyes stung so badly the only respite I had was when they were closed.
But I don’t remember sleeping. I remember feeling sad and devastated all the way to my very soul. I swear I could hear my bones sob and what I needed was someone to fix me. The problem was the one person I needed more than anything else on earth to make everything better was the one person who 3 hours before told me they didn’t want me anymore.
was is hard to handle.
Thoughts raced through my brain like a relay team passing one baton to another, practical things like the mortgage being in joint names – what would we do? Where would I I live? Where would he live? What would we tell people? The Girl?
Oh shit, The Girl. What the hell were we going to tell her?
We decided on nothing. Not for the moment. The Hot Geek said we needed to work out what we were going to do now and until that decision had been made she didn’t need to know. How confusing would it be to be told that Mummy and Daddy aren’t together anymore but continue to live together?
He had a point. I know he did but it was so hard looking at her smiling happy face knowing her world would be so different soon. It is still so hard.
The Break Up happened at the end of May and my life since is a never ending cycle of unhappiness.
I shower in the morning and I cry.
I make dinner and I cry.
I get into bed and I cry.
Not everyday, but most days.
The Hot Geek asks me what’s wrong, he wants to help, he wants me to not feel sad and I tell him that he can’t help me. Not anymore because how the can the person who has left me devastated possibly help me feel better?
I know I sound like a broken record, really I do and deep down I’m sick of feeling unhappy, upset and miserable and as much as my head wants to rule my heart and lead the way back to some semblance of happiness I just can’t help it.
I mean, haven’t you ever felt such overwhelming sad?? And not just sad, but heart-in-a-million-pieces-black-soul sad?
And the worst thing about it is sometimes it sneaks up on me like a ninja when I least expect it.
Just when I’ve started to convince myself that I’m doing OK, that I’m ready to try and move on, someone, anyone, looks me square in the eye and asks me how I’m doing and that’s it – I fall to pieces. I wave goodbye to the Happy Face I’ve spent most of the day wearing and wipe away my facade with my tears and I find myself a sobbing wreck trying desperately to say “I’m fine”.
But I’m not fine.
I need to retrain myself.
Learn to say new things like ‘I’ and not ‘we’ or ‘us’.
Someone asked me recently if I was single and I said “no” before I quickly corrected myself because I know I am.
Well, my head does. My heart doesn’t.
What an awful word.
Single. One. Lonely.
Those are the thoughts that come to mind when I say it. That’s how the word makes me feel and it’s odd to think it refers to me now.
It’s hard. Un-natural.
Why though? Why is it so hard to say? Why do I feel so terrified of one little word?
I think it’s because that one little word means I have to find a whole new way of living on my own, with The Girl, without the man I thought would love me forever and it’s that that scares me death.