27/11/12

I am hovering on the border between life and death. 
I am not living, but merely existing in darkness; in misery.
I want to make the feelings end, for the pain to stop, for this unbearable anguish to dissipate. Only one person can do that for me, and since they won’t, then living is not an option.

But I don’t want to die: I fear the nothingness of death, and I fear missing the possible change of events that could mean our reconciliation. Death would also mean causing the unbearable grief that I feel now on many others, yet they would not have the hope of a reunion that I do, since there would be no bringing me back.

And so I live in limbo, which is more of an existence than a life: breathing, carrying out a few daily tasks that I can manage, moving through life with no attention paid to time, for time has no meaning when you are carrying the thick, crushing waves of loneliness, loss, and longing inside of you.

It should not be this way when two people love each other so, when two people care and share as we did, when two people carry around a part of each other within their hearts. It is not right, and the decision was messy, unprepared, confused, and an entanglement of misdirected emotions. Open your eyes, whilst I am still waiting (I will always be waiting).

22/11/12 (2)

I really want to talk to you now,
and tell you,
how my day has been and how the rain keeps making my feet cold,
to ask you what have you been up to,
and to tell you what I am thinking of baking next
and how you’d love the mince pies my dad has bought for us,
and how I will save you one,
and how I cannot wait, to see you next 
to hold you, to kiss you, and to tell you that I love you,
but,
although I love you more than anyone could ever love anyone,
and although you love me too,
you let me go and,
I cannot tell you, how much I miss you, how much I need you,
how I long for your touch, and your voice, and your love,
every second of every hour of every day,
and how it is killing me inside, 
every second of every hour of ever day. 

22/11/12

3.39am and I’m too scared to sleep because the room is so deafeningly silent and my bed is so obviously empty on your side.

The warmth of your body and the steady inhale and exhale of your breath is missing and I lie alone at night, craving your presence and feeling the cavernous hole inside me that is fraught with misery, 
expand even farther with an explosion of unbearable pain, 
leaving me to ache, all night long, 
until sleep numbs me, 
just for me to wake up in the morning to find you gone again, 
and with that realisation, 
resume my suffering.

20/11/12

My experience of the world has numbed; become blurred, like I myself am not really here, just going through the motions of being alive, but carrying around a heavy, heavy misery within me. Then there are the frequent bursts of white hot pain in my chest, under my skin, inside my skull, some that I push forcefully back inside, and others that escape me in drawn out cries and anguish that I cannot bear, until my body shuts down my mind again and returns me to that hollow, aching state that allows me to exist in my misery (I don’t want to exist in this misery).

18/11/12

Even the air smells like you and you’re everywhere in the atmosphere: in the sunlight coming through the trees, in the walk from mine into town, in the warmth of my bedroom, in the empty space in my bed. 

I feel like you belong in them, and you ripped yourself away. Now all that is left is a pressure in my chest that reminds me that you were, such a short time ago, here. 

This is unbearable anguish.

My life feels empty. How do you move on from someone when all you want is to be with them; when the only reason to move on from them is because they ended it with you, even when they didn’t even seem to want to do that 100% anyway, and that is was, in their eyes, only the “least worst option”, not actually something they wanted?

I feel like I am breaking. He is everything that I want, except that seed of a doubt that he snowballed into something that it didn’t need to be. As someone said, it seems like he can’t take a risk with anything, can’t just see how things go, probably because he’s seen people he loves end after a long time of being together.

He has made both of us miserable over a seed of doubt. He has ended a great relationship over something that doesn’t seem coherent. “I’m happiest when I’m with you,” he said. Then why make us both unhappy? 

“I just know I wouldn’t have these doubts if you were the one,” he said. But how does he know that he didn’t just create those feelings out of his own worries and fears? 

Maybe he’s right. I mean, he did end it with me. It must have been a big enough problem for him to end such love, trust, intimacy, loyalty, and friendship. I must have not been what he wanted if he could end it with me over such feelings. Although last week he was saying that I was what he wanted, and that he wishes he had never written it down and that I had never read it, so that we could be how we were before. Surely that shows that he didn’t want to end it then, so how could it change so much within a week? 

I will probably never have these answers. I will probably drive myself crazy wondering about it for years. Wondering if things could have been different, wondering that if we had stayed together would he have changed his mind and learned that there is no such thing as perfect? A friend said that the Western idea of love is so glorified that people have unrealistic expectations, and I think he has that problem. That thought makes it harder to bear because if only he could have viewed it all more clearly then maybe he would have seen things differently. But then again I will never know. Maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe I was not the one for him, even if he was for me. 

And here we are, an amazing two-year relationship ended over a thought that snowballed. 

Our relationship worked so fucking well. It was just that seed of doubt: a seed of doubt caused by his tendency to over-think. That and the fact that he’s afraid of commitment because his parents broke up and his dad and step-mum broke up after that too. What he’s looking for is unattainable and its horrible because he will find that out and then it will be too late for us. He said our relationship was great and i said “so why?!”, and he said, “because it is not PERFECT.” Everyone with more experience knows that perfect doesn’t exist, and that when you have something really great you don’t let it go for your vision of perfect, because that’s a glorified Western idea that doesn’t exist. Or maybe, maybe it was not right for him and never would have been. I just don’t know.

Every day is so meaningless. I keep thinking that I could so easily end this excruciating pain with a bottle of pills or a blade to the wrists. I probably wouldn’t but it’s tempting sometimes.

Every moment of every day I need him. Only he can make me feel better, but only he can’t, unless he changed his mind, which I don’t think he will. All I want to do is have him hold me, stroke my hair, love me, tell me it’s going to be okay, but he’s chosen to never do that again. 

I just want him, with every fibre of my being I love him, everything about him, every part of me is screaming for his touch, his voice, his words of comfort that he cannot give me. 

I love him, I trust him, I want him, I need him; my best friend, my love, my world.

Please, come back.

The silence is deafening; unbearable
all the gaps you have left behind cannot be filled:
a gaping chasm inside me
pain pushing me apart from the inside out
anguish ripping through me every second, every moment
tearing me to pieces
exploding through my veins

The deepest longing
for your touch
for your voice
for only you can make the pain subside

but you won't.