The drive home no longer feels normal, I left him there, I needed to leave before I broke down any further.
I’m so tired of this weird feeling…
I wish I could define it a little better in my head. Or I wish I didn’t feel it at all. I can’t escape him, he’s in my dreams and in my every thought. Everything I do makes me think of him… It just doesn’t feel ”normal” without him….
I sat mindlessly at work.
I felt like I was in one of those skits where my body doesn’t move at all but everything around me changes and the world carries on. Per usual no one seemed to notice my mood.
By lunch Mike I had sent me 23 messages. Every time I felt my phone ring and I saw his name, my heart sank in my chests. I couldn’t bring myself to look at them… It’s not that I left him on a bad note, it’s the fact that I left with so much left to say.
Even now I want to pour my every thought into my phone and tell him everything that’s in my head. All the things that scare me, everything that makes me happy, and that loving him is probably the scariest feeling of them all…
But I can’t. I just can’t.
The house is empty and I’ve never noticed how silent these rooms could be until now… I still don’t want to talk to Mike or think about anything that has to do with him right now. I need to decompress and collect myself. He can wait.
The sun is setting and the golden glow is falling perfectly over the gazebo. My painting easel is still set up from the other day, I’m glad that storm didn’t come through last night like I had heard.
I sat there until the moon was high and the only light I had was coming from my string of Christmas lights that run along with the trim on the roof and follow the path to the house. I accomplished little with my canvas, apart from a few erased sketches, blue painted corners, and one pair of ruined jeans.
Walking inside I picked up my phone. 6 more messages…
The last one only says ”Hey, I love you…”