I feel okay sometimes, like I am sort of floating on top of the grief.
And then sometimes I'll have a flash of a memory or find something in the house that reminds me of him and my breath is knocked out of me and I'm just drowning in sadness. Heart-wrenching, aching sadness.
Sadness, because why whyyyyyyyyy? And because oh how it hurrrrrrts. And because he was JUST here. Sunday he was here, and we were together. And now he's not, and we aren't.
And sadness because he doesn't want me. I talked to him on Monday night, foolishly thinking he might give me some impression that he was still reeling, too, or that he still loved me but he just needs a little time. But he was checked out. Distant. Like he had become a different person overnight. He told me to hang in there and that we should work on being friends. And that's when I started to realize that 'I just need to be on my own for awhile' actually means 'I just don't want to be with you.'
He had been thinking about this for awhile before it happened. Weeks? Months? He had been figuring out his feelings and deciding what he needed to do. And so he's had time to process this.
I'm still reeling. Still hurting. Floating sometimes, but still drowning.
