I have about 2 and a half more weeks until I move and I keep putting off all the things I have to do to get ready. I keep getting side-tracked with too much thinking, longing and grief. It's so stupid and I really want to seek therapy at this point. I can't figure out why I can't move on and let go. Sunday, I tried to pack up my bedroom a little more and I kept running across baby socks, kid's clothes, barrettes and cards professing love that seemed to vanish so fast from the three people who left my life. It became too much and left me feeling really alone in all of this. I wish I could just skim over the top of my feelings, push them down and do what I need to do. I am trying, but I keep getting blind-sided. I feel like I am mourning death over and over again. If the breakup hadn't been so sudden and traumatizing, I think I might have done a little better, but I have no real closure, no real direction. My feelings didn't just end as soon as he told me he was leaving. They were very strong and very real. I was no where near ready to let him go completely. I was no where near ready to replace all the love I had for him and his kids with hate and betrayal. I was forced to be broken up. I had no choice in the matter and now I feel really fucked up because of it. Love is the best and worst thing that has ever happened to me. It will be a long time before I can open myself up to the real thing again.
I hate that I have what seems to be a constant lump in my throat. It used to be hard for me to cry. I would have one good cry a year for most of my life. Now, I cry at the drop of a hat. Every emotion feels magnified and I am just exhausted. My friends have been amazing, but I don't want to have to lean on them all the time for this shit. I don't want to be the token "basket case" in the group. I am so pissed at myself now for the way I've acted in the last few months of my life. I've never had a breakup like this before, but then again, I've never loved anyone as much as I loved him. So, I couldn't predict how I was going to react to the way things happened. But, I wish now I could have just went quiet and grieved in my own way, with no contact what-so-ever. I just couldn't let him go without a fight. I felt the whole thing was insane. I knew we could figure something out that we both could be happy with. But, I didn't realize there was nothing left in our relationship he felt was worth hanging onto. That killed me, because I saw so much potential in both of us. Work surely had to be done, but I thought Love was fully intact and worth fighting for. I was the only one who felt that way. It's been so hard to wrap my mind around that reality. I feel steeped in sadness about it on a constant basis. My heart will just not allow me to understand.
It's all of these thoughts that have kept me from packing up my house. This was OUR house. This is the last place he and I have ever been together in. This is the last place I will ever see his kids be kids in. This is the end of my first love and the house it once thrived in. I am sentimental to a retarded degree, I realize this. I wish I was not so stubborn and sensitive. I could be over it by now if I wasn't. I know life will go on and I will get moved into my new place (which I am looking forward to). But, I know it will take a long long time before I can feel normal again. The torture of living here with the memories, the constant dreams of him that haunt me in my sleep and the ache I feel when I'm alone will hopefully disappear very soon. I pray every day for some relief. I will thank God the day it finally comes and stays with me for more than a few days.