after her

A journal of recovery

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Day -3

Great start. Go me.

Mood: Heartbroken

I'd been dealing with insomnia for a long time by this point. Stress, health, working a job I had grown to hate but felt trapped at. It usually culminated in me laying awake fretting over her. She hated it and wanted to help. She always wanted to help. I never let her. I wish I'd let her.

I didn't sleep. It was nothing new. The constant tears were. It wasn't officially over yet and still I couldn't hold them back.

I had the week off work, luckily. I had planned to get my shit together. Decorate a bit, clean a lot, and bring her round for a nice meal and let her relax in my arms. We had become so distant and I missed her arms so much. The little smile as I wrapped around her and she snuggled in close to me. My favourite place in the world.

But it was too little too late and it fell by the wayside. I went to a barber appointment, and ran into my brother in town. I pretended everything was normal to everybody I spoke to, I felt empty. I needed to tell somebody but she was the only person I have ever felt I can truly be vulnerable with, and I can't do that now.

I went home to try and sleep. I spent the next 8 hours intermittently messaging her and crying to myself. I felt I needed to say it all because soon I wouldn't be able to. She was kind. She doesnt think so, but she's one of the kindest people I know. She talked to me. I could feel the asymmetry.

Great start. Go me.

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