The End

Because these words were never easier for me to say
Or you to second guess
But I guess
That I can live without you but
Without you I'll be miserable at best

You're all that I hoped I'd find
In every single way
And everything I could give
Is everything you couldn't take
Cause nothing feels like home, you're a thousand miles away
And the hardest part of living
Is just taking breaths to stay

--

Talking about it like it's some big, well-constructed plan makes it seem easier. It seems easier with rules and guidelines and questions-answered. I thought I was OK when I got off of the phone. I wasn't crying. I seemed calm enough--much calmer than before we talked, when I was hitting myself in the face, sobbing and suffocating in my blankets, and shaking uncontrollably (I thought I was cold, but it wasn't even cold yesterday). I could breathe. I was tired, and I wanted to fall asleep. But I couldn't. 1 AM, 2 AM, maybe a little bit of sleep, 3 AM, 4 AM, maybe a little more, 5 AM, 6 AM, a touch more, 7 AM, 8 AM, what's the point--I'm getting up now. And here I am, shaky and restless, nervous about 11 AM, when I officially lose what has become half of myself. It's almost funny that after we talked yesterday, I thought I wouldn't cry. It doesn't seem real, it hasn't really even hit me very hard yet, but it's hit the part of me that keeps me from sleeping, that makes me shiver when I'm not cold, the physical part of me that I never even imaged could be effected by something like this. Lovesick takes a physical form when 8 months comes undone over 3 weeks. I don't want to be angry or bitter or pathetic, but it's hard not to be. I wish I wasn't me with my stupid sickness and my stupid need for control and absurd lack of it. I want to control everyone else's feelings, but I can never even begin to start taming mine. Uggggggh, the end to the stupid dreams that I created for myself, other half intact.