In/Out

I spent the first night in my new place. I had great guys who were more than happy to help me move about 1/2 my stuff for the low low price of pizza and beers. And really, I would've bought the pizza and beer just to get them to hang out with me.

I haven't been doing so well alone.

I just never know when it is going to hit me. I will make it almost the whole day...not one tear! I felt giddy with the new things going on and possibilities and new starts! I got a purple chenille couch big enough for two.

I DO know that it hits me when I come home to a all-but-empty apartment that IS mine, but doesn't feel like mine. I had so many plans and thoughts about this new place, and I was excited to LIVE alone, but I didn't really expect to always BE alone. And boy am I. I guess that's really it. It has been a long time since I felt so alone, so lost, so unmoored. I feel like a stranger to myself. And I ruined my day-long record of not weeping. It was short but hard, the break in composure in the dark in my new room with no over head lights and no television even to distract me and no one left to call. I don't have my person anymore. Other people are tired of hearing about this shit from me and, frankly, I am tired of feeling it. It has been so long, way longer than just since things stopped going on, and possibilities were exhausted and things ended.

I used to be really happy. Well, not all the time, but a generally upbeat person. And I don't know her anymore. The sadness has gotten into my foundations. I know it will get better. I just wish so badly I could close my eyes and click my heels and wake up a month from now, feeling sturdy again. But lately I have been having trouble sleeping.

I know that sometime I won't feel sick when I think about you with her. About how you look in the morning and how you squeezed extra tight when you hugged me when you thought I was being cute. I'll forget all the lovely things we had, they'll seem cute but irrelevant. Pleasant, but dead and gone. I hope, anyway.

But for now, it is like I have a temporary case of manic depression, one day bouncing and hauty, all bluster about how much better I can do (which I hardly mean even at the SECOND I say it), and the next, I can't help but cry the whole drive back to work from lunch, devastated that I don't get to have you anymore, and I throw my whole sandwich in my mouth in what seems like one foul bite, glad to feel some physical sickness that sort of matches my wretched mood.

The good news? 50/50 chance that tomorrow will be one of the good days.