it’s the best way to end things. drop the walls, like a prison on your past, and look only toward the future.
for the next 60 days, no call, no chat, no facebook. i’ve deleted all the possible passages that lead me back to him. it’s like standing in the middle of a clearing, looking back at the hazy route through the trees that got you here and not remembering how to go back.
So you don’t look back; you keep moving on.
it’s probably one of the hardest things i’ve ever had to do, make myself walk out of there against my will, crying quietly at 5 a.m. so as not to wake him up and saying goodbye to the couch, the chairs, the floor tiles, the kitchen — everything i’ve quietly befriended in the time that i shared in his existence. knowing i’ll never see any of it again, not in this way anyway. knowing it’s best for me.
this is so fn hard right now. i’m reeling like an addict whose supplier has just quit the business. and it’s only 4 p.m. — way too far from sleep for comfort.