I am very in tune with my suffering. There is a lonely hole in my chest, my appetite is gone, and I feel the ache of her absence. She’s not a part of my life anymore. I wasn’t all the way ready for that to happen, because I still acutely miss her. She calms me, and keeps me grounded. Now I don’t have anyone holding on to my balloon string. We could talk through any problem together, all except this last one. The outcome of our final conversation was disappointing, needless to say. Nevertheless, here I am alone in the world again for the first time in two years. I’m scared of what may become of me, but part of my directive is to always gain from what I have lost. This time, I know more about myself than I did before: I know I am a loyal lover, a trusted ally and a keen observer of the human scene. I know that I must be able to stand proudly in my own to be a man, and that is exactly what I mean to get back to. I can love, and have loved overwhelmingly, but never reciprocated with anything close to the same intensity. I know now I can’t sustain a relationship with a docile woman. I need someone who can talk to me, engage me and make me think existentially. I want to have words be the currency of future exchanges, and with each unfolding layer, learn more about my partner. I know that I must manage my money better, and that I do regret. But that is also something easily remedied, in fact, is also currently in practice.
I miss her, blog. I know she’s gone. It hurts, and it makes me sit here huddled up under my blankets shutting out the outside world not caring about anything or anyone. I’m feeling sad without her. I still love her. I loved her this morning. I can’t just shut it off. I still love her, but I think it’s clear that we can’t be together. That puts me in a tough spot, torn between my feelings and my rational mind. Sometimes I don’t know which one is in charge, and everything gets distorted. My mind is in tumult. I know what I know and I nevertheless love who I love.
It’s going to be a long night for me blog. Perhaps restless, but certainly full of sorrow.