That Bitch Called Reality

02/03/24

Well, here I am again – struggling still. 

I get a bit of a handle on things for an hour, a few hours, even most of a day, then there’s this slide back into desperate state. 

I hate to admit it but it’s very much connected to whether he contacts me or not. 

I get a text, particularly one that demonstrates some care for my wellbeing, or indicates something external made him think of me, and I’m lifted emotionally. 

I feed off that boost for a while, but as the subsequent silence stretches on I’m forced once again to look at the reality – he chose this separation.

He apparently feels better in himself away from me. He tells me all the anger has gone now he’s moved out.

He spent years choosing not to feed any positive feelings for me, so it’s supremely unlikely that his texts are prompted by missing me, or any sense of regret, or thoughts of reconciliation. 

When he texts to ask if I’m OK, he’s just being a decent human. It has nothing to do with me specifically. There’s no more emotional connection in it than there is when he offers bottles of water to homeless people. Possibly less. 

Reality is being an absolute bitch right now.

It’s tough to breathe when you’re being strangled this hard. 

This hurts so freaking much. 

I’m so damned sick of crying. 

JP