I wish it were possible for my fingers to type for you the noises that I am feeling. The noises would sound like snuffles and whimpers and "aaaaagh" and sighs and all of the rough and uncomfortable sounds that a freshly broken heart makes.
Do I have a broken heart? Oh, yes I do. I didn't even know it was possible to feel it physically. I thought it was an "inyourhead" experience...but no. My lungs are gasping, my tummy is twirling, my head is pounding, my eyes are blurring and burning, and my hands are trembly - I am a mess.
I love him. Plain and simple. I love him. And our conversation was supposed to be a simple clearing of the air. An explanation session, a defining of occurrences and odd behaviour.
I had my words ready...they were finely honed, crafted to not cause anxiety or defensiveness. I also had my attitude in check, because I wanted him to know that I could hold myself accountable for my own actions. I wanted him to know that I was willing to do whatever it would take to make our relationship whole again.
But, alas - we never even got to the sorting out phase of the conversation. We only got to the part where I said, "I love you, and I want to grow old with you. I want to build a future together. And I want to work out these little things that are getting in our way...okay?".
And then there was only silence. Because he can't say "I love you" to me. He shows it in a million ways, but he can't say it. And he doesn't see me in his future, because he doesn't see his future at all. Brutally honest, him. But I guess I started it.
I realized right then that if I hadn't yet inspired my man to see me in his long term future after 2 and 3/4 years, it simply wasn't going to happen.
And there was no reason to sort anything else out...there was nothing there to keep together.
I went to the kitchen, poured some wine, and invited my boyfriend to go watch movies with me. We watched two comedies...I cried through both of them. You know, the silent river of tears that leaves salt burns on your cheeks.
Then I took him to bed. Yes, knowing full well it would be the last of many things. The last night pouring oil on his back and shoulders and massaging out all of the ills of the day. The last time I would snuggle up next to him and smell his neck while he wrapped his arms around me. The last time he would reach his face down to kiss me gently. And then again, but not so gentle. The last time we would lose ourselves in a delicious frenzy of touch and smells and sounds and bodies meeting each other again like it was the very first time.
But it wasn't the first time. It was the last time.
I finally cried myself to sleep after I heard the safety of his snoring. Only to wake back up a couple of hours later, disoriented, exhausted, and ohsosad to have reality come flooding back.
We had our coffee this morning together. Made small talk, did normal morning things, even smiled a couple of times. He packed up his bag to go to KS while I tried to organize my day in my head. My first day alone without Darin. (Gawd. How do people do this?) I tried really hard to keep myself together.
But then came the final moment - the GoodBye Hug and kiss.
And I panicked. What if I made the wrong decision? What if I am being unreasonable? Why can't I just be happy with the way things are???
But it was too late - what was done was done. Sobbing, I kissed him twice with my arms wrapped around him for dear life. He very gently kissed me one more time on my forehead, turned around and walked out the door.
I love him. I do.
...and I know I always will.
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