What words can describe the feeling that settles in when you realise that once again you’re separated, being the one left behind?
A part of me is missing. I walk the streets alone and can’t look into these brown eyes full of love, feel his warmth by my side, my hand in his, our fingers entwined. I know I’ll be fine eventually, both of us always are. But right now I feel like something has been torn away from me. I miss him dearly.
Belatedly – sitting on my single bed that seems too big for one person now – tears stream down my face and I clutch my knees. Is it sadness, gratitude, loneliness, all of it? I comfort myself with the same words over and over again. We’ve been through this, it’s doable, you’ll be reunited soon enough. But there’s no consolation, the pain keeps tormenting me.
And the worries, the overwhelming worries. We’re half-way through the long-distance part of our relationship. Three more years to go. And then? We’re going to move together, of course, somewhere. But I don’t see myself earning money –
why the hell did I decide to take the artist’s path – and how are we supposed to live then? When financial matters are the next challenge, once we’re finally done with the long-distance part?
Oh, how much I miss his face already. His smile, the loving eyes, his touch on my skin. Everything is so empty now, it’s crazy how a couple of hours make all the difference between here and gone. Complete and incomplete.
✕ ✕ ✕
Emptiness. I see him everywhere, but he’s gone, and all that’s left is space that’s not supposed to be there.
With his things gone, my room almost seems double the size it had yesterday. I used to love it – space, minimalism, whiteness. Room to breathe. But now this space is consuming me, there’s this void inside me that makes me want to fill it with food. As if it helped.
I do it anyways.
Life goes on, I have to work somehow, but all I want to do is hide away, avoid people and social interactions. Staying in Lucerne is too painful so I flee from the memories and his haunting absence (and continue whining at home).
✕ ✕ ✕
I know I will be fine, eventually. It has simply never felt this bad before. And as if wasn’t enough, so many things have gone wrong in the two days since he’s left that I feel like surrendering. But I’m going to be fine.
(sorry for this whiny post.)