Crushed

When I wake up tomorrow, I want this to all be over. For me not to feel anymore of the pain that I am feeling. How much can a person endure before it becomes utterly unbearable? It is utterly unbearable and no matter how much I want things to be different, they aren’t, and they never will be. I can’t erase anything that happened. But it is time for me to accept the reality of things. No matter how hard that is going to be it is time to stop looking for something that doesn’t exist. She doesn’t exist for me anymore. She will argue that I ruined it all myself and perhaps she is right. I will take all the blame and hold myself responsible for all the pain and suffering, and so this is the outcome.

I had hoped that we could come back to one another. That in time we would figure it out. And as I learned today, there is no figuring it out. Day dates and books is where it’s at. The chapter is closed. And I don’t know what to do with it. I am crushed. And I just don’t want to feel this way anymore. I know that I messed up. That I didn’t do any of this well. I know that I didn’t treasure what I had in the ways it needed to be. That I was so fucking consumed with myself that I didn’t see it all slipping away from my grasp. And now I don’t know what to do with all these emotions. I have done everything that I can to suppress them. To block them from consuming me and as I write this there is nothing, I can do but to accept this and accept reality.

It doesn’t matter who was right or wrong. I thought that what would matter is what happened in the face of all of this. That in time we would sort it out. That in our pursuit to mend the demons within us that we would find a way to turn back towards one another. And I was very wrong. How could this really be it? How could I have been so wrong? As I look back over the last text messages exchanged between us, I should have known then. And yet I was still hopeful.

It’s a Saturday night, and I am almost done watching A Million Little Things, final episode, with my four-year-old sleeping next to me and I just want to crawl out of my skin. So, I am writing with the hopes that somehow, I can be released from this. There is so much good happening in my world and none of it matters. It has little meaning when you can’t share it. When I can’t share it with her. So much has happened that I have kept bottled up and no matter how much I write, I can’t write about all of the other stuff because I can’t seem to get out of my own way with all of this grief. It is debilitating and it makes me reactive, and it is killing me. I feel like a shell of what I was and maybe that is how I should feel. Maybe that is the whole point of this. I am just so very tired.

I glanced across a full room of family and friends and knew. I didn’t know what it was then, but I knew it was something life changing. And the irony of it all, none of it fucking matters. We are not the same people we were then, and I am profoundly grateful for that. We are both better, more healed women. But I never wanted to walk this earth with that as the only outcome and sadly it is. I didn’t set out on this healing journey for her, it was truly for me, but it was also for us and now there is no us. And it’s time for me to get on board. That is the part I have been failing to adjust to. All the dreams, the plans, all need to be adjusted. And I don’t know what that will actually mean in the end. I just know that my kids and I will figure it out.

The hope, the maybes, the wishes, are no longer necessary. Now what I need to do is move forward. I need to navigate the pain and allow access to the good. There truly is good. I just miss having someone to share it with. I miss the possibilities. I miss her. No matter how much I stunted forward motion, the possibilities were endless. We had dreams. Even in the chaos, we had dreams and those dreams are dead. And now dreams need to be forged in a whole new different way. Me standing on my own two feet. Making my own dreams come true. I will slowly find my way out of this, and I will begin to complete one task at a time. I will find a way to accomplish all my goals.

I imagine that the dull ache will eventually fade. That I won’t burn for her. That I won’t feel her the ways that I still do. That in time, it will get easier. Time to take a page out of the book.