Survival Mode And Back to Work

By

Deborah

Today I went back to work. I held in my tears until lunch, after four excruciatingly long hours. Progress. Today I recognized what I had lost in this relationship – the pride in being me, in being sexy and strong. I am excited to rediscover these things.

Last night he and I snuggled. We have every night since we broke up. We spend the days awkwardly dancing around each other, trying to orient this new half-dead relationship where we are no longer a team. We use first names now, don’t call each other during the day, don’t eat dinner together. But at night we hold each other for dear life.

It is the clinging that gets me, that shatters the composure. Because it just makes it so clear that we are terrified. That this is one final piece that we will have to let go of. He is looking for a new place and I recognize that he has to go, that this tip-toeing we’re doing is not helping the healing process, that we’re in a holding pattern. But the sad, fearful side of me is okay with that, wants to fill whatever tank there may be to get me through the loneliest of upcoming nights.

Last night I woke up in the night and just stared at his arm wrapped around me. I stared at his hand and fingernails and the papery texture of his skin alit in the moonlight. I believe I was trying to burn it into my memory, making myself believe that it was real for so long and in a short amount of time, will be no longer.

Two days ago every single thing made me cry. No dinners together, no drives, no trips to the co-op, no backup with my family, no laughing and silliness and support. No future. Today those are all there, in a lower frequency in the background. Now it is just ALONE. That is the word that brings the tears. Alone in my bed, alone in the apartment, alone in my stories, alone in my dinners, alone in my life. No more papery skin and protection throughout the night. Just me. With all the fears and worries. That is where I am. I don’t know if I weigh the beauty of having him for a few more days, just so I can sleep, just so I can pretend enough to let his arms feel like they always have and not a vestige of a fading relationship, against what this all will be like when he is gone, if it will be worth it.

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