Professing * Reflecting

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Can't take it

I feel like hell. As much as I know he is a complete wanker, a total fuckwit, and a real motherfucker (more on my theory of "the real motherfucker" later), I miss him. Even though he was not in my life for very long (a little over a year, if we count first meeting and correspondence), he occupied a huge amount of emotional and mental space, especially in the last few months. I feel physically ill from the sadness and anger.

Each morning I wake up with a little more clarity and I feel encouraged, knowing that I am strong. Given the shit I have been through, this is a drop in the bucket. I am more than equipped to deal with it. This morning I even felt like I had snapped back to my old self. I recognized that I had never felt sure about this relationship anyway. I realized that I would have ultimately been unhappy. I felt a little bit of relief, a little thrill of freedom.

By afternoon I was crying in traffic, crushed beneath this enormous feeling of loss. I know that I have only lost what was actually an illusion--the illusion that this was an amazing relationship, more amazing than I had ever imagined a relationship could be. (Yes--I fully realize that I sound like a fifteen-year-old girl, but there it is.) I cannot seem to let go of that feeling, because it was there. It was real. Then there is the horrible suspicion that I am the one who fucked this up, that I am the one who did not do enough to hold on to that original and amazing connection, that I am the one who let doubt and fear destroy it.

I can't stand feeling like this, and I do not know what to do. I know the therapeutic line: "You just have to feel it. Stay with it. Go through it and come out on the other side." I don't feel like I can or should stay with these feelings. In fact, I want to run away from them as fast as I can.

To make matters worse, I have not written a word of the article that is due in two weeks. This is an important article for me. I have never been one who can throw myself into my work to get through a painful time. I do not eat. I do not sleep well. I have trouble concentrating.

Some pulling up of myself by the bootstraps (as my father would say) is in order here, I know. How does one pull oneself up by the bootstraps, by the way? Are the boots on the feet? Where are the straps? Are you lying down? Sitting up? Okay, made myself smile.

I am supposed to go see a show with One True Love tonight. Do not know if this is a good idea. Must get in the shower now if this is going to happen. Some drinks, some music, some friends? Maybe some flirting? Am I up for this or will it make me more depressed? I was more than a little scene sick long before the grand romance with The Grand He began.

Will I end up in bed with OTL? Some stranger? Would that be so bad? Ummm . . I think I at least know the answer to that one.

I don't know what to do with myself.



Post a Comment

<< Home