Separation, Day 3

In an effort not to lay in bed and wallow in self-loathing, I got on the rowing machine yesterday for 18 minutes.  I pushed too hard, and my shoulders are paying for it this morning, but it was 18 minutes that I wasn’t in bed, and that’s progress.

On that front, however, I only threw up once yesterday.  I had the urge several times, but was able to fight it back down.  I also spent over an hour writing a letter to her.  Three full pages, with breaks for hand cramps, sobbing, and nose-blowing, saying things that I should have been saying to her all along.  It put a lot of things into perspective, and it’s going to be a long road to travel in order to fix everything that’s broken.

I slept for roughly five hours last night, with several interruptions as I woke up from nightmares.  Several times I reached out for her, just to put my hand on her hip for a moment, and that was painful every time.  My nightmares were jumbled, but themed around everything going on in real life.  They were full of screaming matches and insults.  That’s one thing that I find remarkable in this situation.  Neither of us has lashed out in anger, said something we didn’t mean or couldn’t take back.  As much as I wanted her to hit me, or scream at me, or do whatever it took to relieve some of her anger and hurt, she’s remained mostly calm.  That scares me more than I’d like, because it’s how I would have reacted… and I’m learning how unhealthy it is to hold it in and face it alone.

I need to get out of the house.  There’s little reminders of her in every room, whether things she left or things that she gave me, even things that just remind me of her.  I don’t know what all she’ll come back for, and what she’s abandoned, but I don’t know that I’d want to get rid of any of it.  Even if I did, it’s not like it’d help.  I think about her constantly, reminders or no.  Sitting in this quiet building, knowing she isn’t here and isn’t going to come walking in the front door anytime soon is making this worse.  I think I’ll go get my oil changed, wander Lowe’s or something, maybe drop in on my parents and try to talk about all these feelings so more.

I hope that she has people she’s spending time with.  I don’t want her to be alone in this.  As much as I want to run to her, wrap her in my arms and tell her that we’ll get through this, no matter what the outcome is, I think that would only do more harm than good.  Even if it’s not my shoulder she’s crying on, I hope it’s someone’s. I just don’t want her to be alone in this.

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