12 Hours In
Twelve hours in and I'm sad. The light of day has done nothing but bring reality and the realization that we are truly done. Last night I could pretend, kid myself. But not today. I am sober and the sun is out. Makes denial impossible and disappointment nearly overwhelming. After nearly two months of hoping, wishing, and dreaming, I have to stop. I have to change my way of thinking. I have to let her go and go on with life. My life. Without her.
She seems good, like a weight has been lifted. And I guess it has. The light of day has brought a new reality and a new realization for her. She did it. She finally told me. Where she was once worried about what to do and what to say, it's done. She can happily change her way of thinking. She can let me go, like she has wanted to do for awhile, and go on with life. Her life. Without me.
Truth be told, I'm tired of making the transition, tired of forcing myself to go from more to less, tired of adjusting, tired of disappointment, tired of being everything yet never enough, tired of being their best friend, tired of never getting what I want. I've done this time and time again and it never gets any easier.
So, I'm going to be sad. I'm going to own it. Then I'll probably get drunk and stay that way for awhile. A rum-induced haze makes reality a little less real and the disappointment a little less crushing. I need to not feel right now. Maybe when I'm twenty-four hours in, I'll feel up to it. I'm doubtful, but we'll see.
She seems good, like a weight has been lifted. And I guess it has. The light of day has brought a new reality and a new realization for her. She did it. She finally told me. Where she was once worried about what to do and what to say, it's done. She can happily change her way of thinking. She can let me go, like she has wanted to do for awhile, and go on with life. Her life. Without me.
Truth be told, I'm tired of making the transition, tired of forcing myself to go from more to less, tired of adjusting, tired of disappointment, tired of being everything yet never enough, tired of being their best friend, tired of never getting what I want. I've done this time and time again and it never gets any easier.
So, I'm going to be sad. I'm going to own it. Then I'll probably get drunk and stay that way for awhile. A rum-induced haze makes reality a little less real and the disappointment a little less crushing. I need to not feel right now. Maybe when I'm twenty-four hours in, I'll feel up to it. I'm doubtful, but we'll see.
Comments
Post a Comment