After breaking down and giving in, I called you. In tears and sobbing.
I don’t want to be alone.
But after the hysteria briefly calmed, I realized what a mistake I made. Calling you, late at night and crying, would do no good. I was hurting you. You couldn’t come to my aid. You couldn’t care for me. You made it clear you didn’t want that. And I didn’t want that for you either.
I apologized and apologized. That’s all I ever do. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. It’s been ingrained in me to apologize for myself. For causing harm and worry.
In the middle of crying I was sorry, it dawned on me.
This was the day I came back to you last year. This was the day you held me in your arms, gently. Promising we’d get through this. That you would stay and be by my side.
And that night, I sat between your legs on itchy grass, staring up at fireworks with family’s and couples all around in awe.
I was in awe.
Today I made the first steps in getting fish. I got their tank and basic equipment. The excitement lasted maybe an hour.
A few minutes after I made the purchase, guilt washed over me.
And then disappointment.
Why did I just spend the money I could use towards future groceries and bills. Why try to make myself happy. Why try at all.
Why, did I just get another living creature that will depend on me, when I barely know if I’ll be around. If I’ll choose to stay. If I want to live.
I already have a semi-formed plan for my two cats. They mean everything to me. I wouldn’t and couldn’t do anything to harm them. They’ll be fine.
But what about the fish? Or the snake? Or the rats? Or the dogs I wish to have in the future?
I’m trying to fill a void in myself and cling onto anything that resembles happiness to me.
I’ve been all over the place, week after week taking about and researching a new animal I’m interested in. I love animals. I find them fascinating and beautiful.
But I feel manic.
I feel that I’m losing my mind.
And I’m not sure a fish will help.
I feel so weak.
My muscles won’t relax, my stomach keeps churning, my fingers keep shaking, and my brain won’t stop ticking.
I can’t go a single minute left with my thoughts without anxiety crushing me.
When I’m alone, I’m alone.
I don’t know if I can be anymore.
I don’t know if you follow my blog anymore. I don’t know if you’d want to anyways. But, this is the only way I hope to reach you through the cosmos.
I told you recently, I don’t want to fight with anyone else. I want to fight and struggle and laugh and love only with you.
Please. Please, let’s figure this out. Please don’t leave my life.
I love you.
I thought I knew heartbreak. I thought I knew how it felt. But I was naive. Yes, I loved those in the past. But not the way I’ve loved you.
You are the one who has made me feel.
Losing you is so visceral and real. It’s not just a few sad thoughts or sad days.
It’s endless shaking. And knots in my stomach trying to free my throat. It’s labored breathing. And stinging tears. It’s feeling nauseous. And so tightly wound even my short nails dig into my skin.
It’s worse than a bruise or a cut. I’d rather bleed than drown in a crushing wave, knowing you’re not there.
I’m so reactive to memories of you. I can’t seem to pull myself away from the onslought of pain and yearning. I keep looking at the photos I’ve saved, because I can’t bare to lose those too.
Everyone says to stay away. My mind and body sometimes too. I know its not right. But it also feels so wrong.
I feel wrong without you.