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Originally Posted by girldetective
Monday will be 3 weeks since Ive seen or communicated with the Tpop. I have erased all of his messages and numbers and culled through our emails. I have closed my email account. I did these things last weekend. It took 2 weeks of stinky funky missed work days, but I did it. I think of him most of the day still, and try to distract myself. The other night I cried on the way home and cried his name out loud. I daydream about him.
Im not sure that it will go away PMF21, but I think it will lessen and we will get used to it, and more importantly learn from it. One day I think we will wake-up the train will have stopped at a new station. Until then, 1000 besitos for you my friend.
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I know how you feel. Cleaning my room of her felt very disgusting; disgusted in myself for giving up, I felt so disloyal and dirty. At the same time I have this feeling that me liberating myself from her will have made it that much easier, in hindsight. I haven't gotten rid of her emails or the gifts she's given me (like a scrapbook) because I want those in the future, and right now they are inconsequential.
My friend has taken my cell phone, so I can't text her. I haven't heard her voice, except for the video of relationship past, in days. I feel so weak which is normal for me, but usually it is internal while my public figure is that of extreme but unspoken confidence; now I can't hide this weakness.
I worked out today as a distraction, about two hours longer then I usually do. I wrote two drafts for one act plays because I'm doing one with a fringe theatrefest that is huge in town. Both of which are about suffering over a relationship (One is the span of four year of aftermath after a gay friend kills a student and himself. Another is a father's death, and the conversation between the father and son at his funeral). I feel like fucking Gus Van Sant for god sakes.
Someone needs to slap me awake. The only thing that makes it hard is the constant polarization of my take on this; sometimes I'm for, others I'm very not. The extremes are hard to handle; and I don't mean The Black Crowes because that would rock, literally.
I kind of wish I could have a good cry about it. When my father was sick this fall (he is also a member here so I won't share his name) I cried almost instantly and felt this insane release that helped me be rational but fuck, I cannot force my own sanity to come around. I want to say I'm feeling better but there are still those "far and in between" moments of dying inside.
Fuck.
