Lonely
The funny thing about breaking up is that you get lonely.
But I'm not lonely for what we had, or what could have been, I'm not all "I wish Patrick was here." I'm existentially lonely. Furthermore, I'm lonely for something else. Someone else?
I want company.
I want familiarity.
Actually, I don't know what I want.
I feel desolate, not necessarily in a bad way. Deserts are desolate, snowfields are desolate, they are both some of my favorite landscapes. I feel like there is a vast expanse of nothing inside me and I have no need to fill it, though I want to share it with someone.
I grieve the loss I've suffered, even though I feel dulled to the suffering, because it's not the worst heartbreak I've endured. Not even close. It's not the worst loss. It's not the most pain.
Then I feel as though I'm diminishing our relationship - after all, I did think, at one point, that perhaps we would spend our lives together. I've felt like that before, too, though.
But it's the small things I miss. The small things make me cry.
The way he would sleep curled up around the cat.
Coming home to his "Oh, hi, you."
Holding hands while we were driving. Or walking. Or sleeping.
We held hands so much, and I never thought about it.
I do miss Patrick. It hurts and I'm sad and I don't have a partner anymore.
But he'll never break my heart like it was broken before he met me.
And I love him so much.
I don't know how to put everything together, it just all sucks.
It's a dull, aching hurt.
But I'm not lonely for what we had, or what could have been, I'm not all "I wish Patrick was here." I'm existentially lonely. Furthermore, I'm lonely for something else. Someone else?
I want company.
I want familiarity.
Actually, I don't know what I want.
I feel desolate, not necessarily in a bad way. Deserts are desolate, snowfields are desolate, they are both some of my favorite landscapes. I feel like there is a vast expanse of nothing inside me and I have no need to fill it, though I want to share it with someone.
I grieve the loss I've suffered, even though I feel dulled to the suffering, because it's not the worst heartbreak I've endured. Not even close. It's not the worst loss. It's not the most pain.
Then I feel as though I'm diminishing our relationship - after all, I did think, at one point, that perhaps we would spend our lives together. I've felt like that before, too, though.
But it's the small things I miss. The small things make me cry.
The way he would sleep curled up around the cat.
Coming home to his "Oh, hi, you."
Holding hands while we were driving. Or walking. Or sleeping.
We held hands so much, and I never thought about it.
I do miss Patrick. It hurts and I'm sad and I don't have a partner anymore.
But he'll never break my heart like it was broken before he met me.
And I love him so much.
I don't know how to put everything together, it just all sucks.
It's a dull, aching hurt.