I couldn’t sleep. Every few minutes my eyes would look towards the phone to see if she saw the message I had sent. My mind ran circles around pain…
I’d be free for a moment or two, and quickly, involuntarily, decrepit emotion would creep into my subconscious and pull me away from the fantasy I was attempting to conjure.
I relived my detox and put myself in gratitude for the pain I was currently experiencing. At least it’s not worse than that…
And then my stomach began to tie itself in knots.
I opened my eyes and stared at the fan as it spun:
“I’m going to be OK.”
I closed my eyes and imagined speaking in front of a crowd, sharing my ideas, and my experiences, for the betterment of anyone who’d be willing to receive them.
I imagined being on Marc Maron’s podcast, sitting across from him as he asks about my story. Unexpectedly, my heart tugs away from the fantasy and pushes up towards my throat.
I reach for the phone to see if she’s seen me.
I toss to the other side of the bed and imagine the girl I’m supposed to be with, the one I’m supposed to meet, and her face commandeers my consciousness.
My stomach knots up and I open my eyes.
Reality brings relief as the fan continues to spin. I’m in my room, alone, and I’m ok.
My thoughts, my emotions, and my ideas are not reality. This is. A warm bed in a cold room.
Dealing with a break up isn’t easy. It hurts.
And after days of emotional instability, trying to make sense of the choice your gut knows it needs to make, after hours of waiting, wishing, and hoping that what you feel, what you sense between the two of you is wrong…
You realize you can’t avoid the truth.
So you make a decision that it’s over. You know the pain is on its way, the loneliness and the heartache, but you accept it. You understand that these experiences are meant to teach you something, and you realize fully, that you’re alive.
And if you’re still breathing, you’ll find yourself closer to living again.