I haven’t been eating. If you knew me, you’d be worried too considering my love for steak, fries and all things grease and oil. People have been commenting on how great I look, with the weight loss. At least something good is coming out from this Break. I’ve tried to eat, but everything tastes the same- and no, not like cardboard. Its like there is no enjoyment from the food I taste- I know I’m supposed to be getting excited, and savor the spice or the sweetness, but it’s unattainable (the excitement of eating I mean). I don’t know if that makes sense.It seems like my carb intake will have to come from vodka (that’s potatoes right?) and apple cider.
I went out with a good mate of mine this evening- one of His closest friends, in fact the same mate who introduced us. It was great, fun chats but I literally had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from asking about Him. How was he? Did you know we had broken up? Consciously I wanted him to somehow bring up our drinks, at a later stage this weekend and He would overhear and realise that I dunno, I’m trustworthy for not mentioning intimate stuff to his friends? That I’m still fun to hang around? I don’t quite know what I achieved actually.
Being an adult, newly-enlightened and mature is hard. It frustrates me a little that I’m unwilling to act out- get drunk, sleep around and go into that downward spiral that’s all too comfortable now. I can’t. I’m beyond that, and I think what’s frustrating is that I haven’t found a physical outlet for all this feeling. Maybe that’s what writing is doing for me.
I nearly cried today in front of my dad. I was late in picking him and he missed his meeting. I felt so useless. Like I’m allowing a little Break to affect all the credibility and trustworthiness that I’d spent over a year building up. I wondered if the mature being I am today was interlinked with Him. I hope not. I hope I’m my own person. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.
I don’t like that I give so much in relationships, so much that I struggle to find myself after. But I give out of love, and once you’ve got me under your spell, I trust you not to manipulate me and use that to your advantage. But I don’t feel used. I feel like I’ve given so much, and I know I say I’ve given enough to Him, but I know that’s a lie. If he asked me to wait, I’d ask “How long?” If he called me now to meet him, I’d abandon this post and get in my car. Does that make me pathetic, maybe. But when you love someone so completely, nothing they ask, nothing they say is overwhelming or impossible.
I worry that I will be the perpetual “girl who got away”, and never the girl who gets the guy, in the rain as the credits are rolling. I’ve loved very few people in my life, it’s always difficult- this Break is case in point. I never take for granted how scared it takes me to completely demolish my internal walls and just give freely and lovingly of myself. I think only two people have ever seen that, He is one of them.
It wasn’t raining but it was night time, March or April at his place. I looked at him, apparently as if I wanted to run scared and all he said to me was “I know”. Later that night as He walked me to my car, I blurted it out, “I kinda love you”.
“Kinda?” he asked and I think I started crying then and shaking my head.
“No, like a lot a lot”
And he just smiled that adorable smile of his, held me and repeated it back. No pressure, not articulate, simple. Perfect. I’d never said those words first before, and more often than not I’d felt obligated to say them- not that night
Serenity. Courage. Wisdom