Completion. Like the emptiness after an orgasm.
The heartache of separation bothers me the most because I can no longer express and communicate, perhaps.
426 days. And most of them spent in ambivalence.
‘The biggest mistake I have made is letting people stay in my life longer than they deserved’.
Or maybe, the biggest mistake I have made is closing my heart and pushing away people because it hurt too much.
Being told, you are closing your heart because you think it will protect you, but only if you leave it open will you have wisdom and clarity.
Time comes to a standstill and leaves me gasping for air.
A shared history, a shared understanding, hopes and dreams and secrets, abandoned. To the void, to dust.
Someone said to me today they can see I’m willing to let go, even if I don’t like it. Is that what this is? To me it feels like an unfolding.
Feelings are scary. I need a best friend and a tub of ice-cream.
It’s all well and good to talk of growth, change, evolution as a cicada shedding her shell… but to pull your life apart to rebuild again and again?
This is love, apparently.