Listen to The Night We Met, the Micky cover. Lord Huron's version isn't painful enough for this post.
Today is a force myself out of bed day. Everything in me desires to glue itself to my bed, cry all day, and dissociate from all the overwhelm.
It is my 2nd day off and my days off always catch up to me. I am getting bad again.
I'm having trouble getting enough sleep, I'm struggling to eat sufficiently, and I'm trying to distract myself from my feelings.
The distraction is nice because I certainly can't wallow in them.
But goddamn, it's been 5 weeks and so much of the pain is just the same. I've gleaned so much wisdom over this time, but the grief is still there.
I miss my partner something fierce, something awful, something dreadful that makes me roll around in bed feeling incredibly and overwhelmingly itchy. It's like I want them here with me cuddling but they are 5 weeks gone.
And to go from talking all day everyday to hearing not a peep for 5 weeks feels like hell. It will only get worse from here on out, and I am not certain how to cope with that. I honestly don't know if I can, my body keeps telling me. But I must.
I hate having lost a love of my life, and in an unfair way. I am here lately consumed with so many feelings I can't quite make sense of. And I suppose it's the reality of knowing that when I make sense of them, I am letting go.
God, I hate letting go.
"I had all of you, most of you, some, and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Take me back to the night we met"
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