For every moment of clarity, every small ray of light that I manage to drag to the surface of me, every moment where I think I might be doing better, there is, eventually and inevitably, a violent recoil that knocks me off my feet. It is a tangible thing, I can feel it happen, feel it hit me. Sometimes it is so sudden that I have no warning at all, while at other times I can see and feel it flying towards me, faster and faster, coming for me. I cannot escape, I cannot hide. I cannot stand against it. It forces me to the ground, drops me to my knees. It steals the breath from my lungs and the spark from my soul. And so I find myself curled into a ball in the corner of my sofa, crying like a child.
I’ve been trying to apply the technique that I use to help me deal with migraines, which is very simple. Just slow, steady breaths combined with visualizing myself floating safely beneath the water, letting the pain wash over me while I gently sway beneath the crashing waves. It isn’t helping, at least not so far. I feel physically battered, and I am exhausted. In all ways exhausted.
I have more to say, more thoughts to explore, but I can’t find the words. I feel blunted. Numbness surrounds and accentuates the icy pain that I cannot seem to make leave me be, no matter how hard I try.
I am fighting, I am. I can’t find me, but I am still here, maybe not standing, but I am still here.
Nothing is bright, nothing is shiny, nothing is yes at all. I am full of no and pain and sadness. I feel lost and alone and hopeless. I could not get out of bed today. I just lay there, in the dark, sad, hurting, scared. I just now got up. It’s after lunch. I’m so tired. Mentally, emotionally, physically. I am so tired. I am a fool. I am a fool and my soul is in tatters.
I love you. You’re my inspiration. My sunshine, my belle. You make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of us, of what we have. You’ve changed me. We’ve known each other before, so familiar, so right. Haven, shelter, a light in a storm. There’s no going back. You saved me. You pierce my soul. We’re two trains on the same track. Inevitable. Destiny. We’ll have ours. I love you fiercely. Never goodbye. Yes.
There’s more, a lot more, but I am tired and sad and I think I’m going to bed.
Every single thing. A song on the radio? I wonder what he’d think about it. A beautiful spot in the sun? Visions of us holding hands, happy to be alive and together. My son’s Legos strewn across the floor? I envisioned a lasting relationship, some sort of a future with this man. My god.
All I did today was cry.
I hate this, I really do.
Dan Jimenez, Adrian Jimenez, escritorio1978
I kept things from him as well. I am also married. My marriage is at the “we haven’t had sex in over two years and I’ve asked for a divorce” stage. Different, I feel, from his “my wife is about to give birth to our first child” stage of marriage. I also ultimately told him everything, as we moved deeper and deeper into our relationship. I couldn’t stand the thought that I’d been less than completely open with him.
He had so many chances to end things with me, had he wanted to, and every single time he instead used the opportunity to take our relationship even farther. “Finding out” about the baby was a perfect opportunity, I even gave him the door to walk though and still he choose not to take it. When I told him about my marriage, he could have ended things and even come out looking like the injured party, had he chosen to do so. But he didn’t. He kept right on loving me, building me up, setting me up for a fall he HAD to know would eventually arrive. He called us two trains on the same track, said it was destiny that we’d met and fell in love, that there was no stopping it. He assured me over and over that “we’d have ours”, meaning our time, our life, the life together that we talked about. We ended every conversation with “never goodbye” and tossed about the word “always” like it actually meant something. Just typing that now made my heart drop and my pulse race.
My current relationship with my husband is complicated, in that he wants us to work things out and I want us to get divorced. He doesn’t believe in passionate love, the type of love I thought I had found with Dan. He thinks I’m a fool to believe that it can exist. Again, this is why I am fighting. I do not want to end up bitter and unfulfilled. Worse yet, I don’t want to let my current feelings of devastation and pain weaken me to the point where I go back to my old life, just because it is there for the taking.
I’m going to take a break from writing for a bit. The pain comes out of the blue and takes my breath away, several times a day. I need to cry, and then I need to function in my life for a while.