Life goes on without me.

131.4 pounds. I feel like I am shriveling away. **Trigger warning**


I am off work this week. A part of me is thankful for the opportunity to take care of some home projects. A part of me hopes this will give me the opportunity to recoup some hours of sleep that I miss out on at night because my brain won’t stop racing. The other part of me is scared… terrified to have all of this time alone, away from work, and away from any routine.

Friday night was a terrible night. All I could think of was the play that The Actor was performing in that evening… without me. I was imagining the smiles and accolades he was receiving from others. Afterwards, he probably would attend a post-performance celebration at a bar, filled with flirtatious women. The whole evening for him would be consumed with exhilaration and happiness. Life goes on without me, and maybe it’s a better life. I assume he’s happy. I know I’m miserable.

Meanwhile, I am holed up in my bedroom, curled into a ball on my bed. Piles of things not put away surround me. Tears won’t stop flowing. I had a steak knife on the tray night to my bed. I picked it up and placed the flat part of the blade against my wrist. I felt the cold metal on my skin. Then I proceeded to look up the lethality of suicide methods. I cried some more.

I called three friends. None were available. I looked up suicide hotlines. I never called one before. I started to read the testimonials of support on the hotline websites. I cried some more.

How have things gotten so bad? I managed to fall asleep that night, with no physical harm done to myself. One of my friends called me that morning, and another came over that afternoon. My friends dragged me out that evening. I stayed busy most of the day. I am blessed with good friends, and should focus on my gratitude towards them.

Here I am on Monday morning, officially the first day of my week off. My face is stained with the morning tears. There is a figurative foot that is pressing down on my chest, slowly crushing my heart with increasing pressure. I miss The Actor and all of the times we had. I just want to go back to the way things were, before he realized he was incapable of a commitment. I miss him so much that I ache for him. He plays the starring role in my lucid dreams at night. I want to hold him, and to press my nose and lips against his neck. I can still feel, smell, and taste him. The connection in my heart and brain is still so vivid.

Coinciding with missing him, I feel like my time to meet someone has run out. This is the last year of my thirties. It’s the kiss of death on the online dating sites. I am in no frame of mind to meet someone new, as my heart still longs to be with The Actor. The thought of moving on in life without him is too much to bear. At the same token, I feel like my time is ticking away.


2 thoughts on “Life goes on without me.

  1. As I just said on another of your posts, take some time to heal yourself. There is loads of time! I am 50, imagine how over the hill I was beginning to feel! And then I met the most gorgeous man on the planet and 10 months later we married. I write about how to make sure you are ready to date etc in my blog – you might be interested… (there are lots of posts on there that may be helpful) and I think I will write about how to overcome the grief at the end of a relationship soon. Take care of yourself.

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