I said goodbye to her and it broke my heart. I can’t explain the feeling because quite frankly I’m confused.
I spent last week trying to figure out whether I felt like a) a nervous new grad whose fate is reliant on dippy economics; b) a bulimic who binges on memories and tries to forget; or c) a constipated passenger stuck in traffic praying to get on for relief. Unsure. Truth is, even after after all the ‘therapy’ and ‘dedication to normalcy’ I still had the shakes and the doubt if I will ever be good enough. The desire to vomit every ten seconds. The need to let it all out.
I said goodbye to her and it sucks because I am so tired and wasted. I feel like I’ve downed ten bottles of triple distilled vodka. There’s an intense heat running down my stomach attempting to kill my insides and I just let it. The desire to sever all senses is so immense and I would love to – for at least a couple of hours – not feel anything, not think of anything, not sense anything. But I am failing like hell. In the most random moments I hear her laughter and I see her face. It’s all good until the giggles turn into screaming and her smile turns to tears. I begin shutting these memories out until I realise I can only have her in those moments. I just want to go to fucking sleep.
I said goodbye to her and I miss her so much. I’ve moved to the biggest room in the house I’m renting and as I stare at my brand new kingsize bed, my still-unopened and unsorted luggage, my ‘Welcome Back’ cards the empty feeling is slowly taking residence in this massive space. I feel like kicking my head 12,000 times. Did I really need this much space to feel how lonesome I am?
I said goodbye to her and I am, again, at a loss.