Day 11.

I’ve decided that I’m going to leave because…its hard to continue living here without…

“I know. I’m sorry.”

You were my one reason to stay. As much as I despised my job, you gave me that one reason to stay.

***

Its been 2 days. Maybe 3. I’ve lost count.

My phone remains silent. No texts. No calls. Nothing.

Nada.

Michael Buble’s “Lost” has become a staple on my playlist.

There are no more tears. No more mind-blowing sorrow. No more. Just a dull ache somewhere beneath my sternum.

People say that heartbreak sometimes is worse than childbirth. There’s a slight disagreement from my point of view about that statement.  Sure, you can never beat the sensation of trying to fit a rock melon through a hole intended for a ping pong ball but heartbreak tends to drag on. Longer. It might not hurt as much but it sure does cause a lot of grief. A lot of tears. A familiar scene. A whiff of perfume. A song playing on the radio. Salsa parties. Chinese takeaways.

And its always these moments that things seem so unfair. Why, when I thought I was okay, had to dance a rueda with a girl who wore EXACTLY the same perfume? You stayed in my mind the entire night.

That dull ache continues to pulse slightly when I sleep. As I wake up and look at my ceiling and pretend you’re still next to me, sleepy, eyes half shut as you smile at me and throw your arm over my chest, my heart thumps away and I wonder if I blurred my eyes whether it would bring you back.

I keep telling myself that you’re getting over me now.

Its also hard to imagine how when you’ve spent time with someone and you’ve become so engrained into their lives like fragrantly polished wood and then suddenly, POOF. You’re at the sidelines. You’re out of their lives. You pretend or try and ignore the fact that I exist. You want, desperately hope for life to return to the way you remembered it. Before me. So that you don’t have to deal or bear with the pain any longer. I know. I’m trying to do that right now.

But its weird how I can’t quite seem to imagine life before you. What was it like? What did I do on my weekends? What did I do? Who did I talk to?

I’m not sure. You were there every step of the way and now….yeah.

I wrote my CV and my cover letter today. And I’m getting ready to pack my bags all over again.

Thanks for the memories. They were great. And maybe, in another life, in another time, we would have worked out just fine.

But all I can do right now is huddle in my corner and lick my wounds while I pray that there is some deity up there who would relieve both you and me of our torment.