The world passes you by as you deteriorate into a painful bliss. Your thoughts will drift to the house plant you need to water, the house plant that you’re leaving there to die. Just like he did to you. He’s left you to die. You don’t have time to think about that, so you turn over and close your eyes. You can’t feel when you sleep.
Breakups are tough. We’ve all been there, that dreadfully dark place, where no light can reach you. You feel yourself wilting away into your duvet.
How long has it been? What time does that clock say? Anxiety prevents you from looking at your phone. What if he’s called? What if he hasn’t? You’ve been in bed for a whole day. That can’t be right. That clock must be wrong. If only you could look at your phone. You don’t have time to think about that right now, so you turn over and close your eyes. You can’t feel when you sleep.
There’s a light creeping into the room from somewhere. Where is it coming from? Your eyelids alone can’t shut it out, instantly you move your arm over your eyes, it doesn’t work. It still isn’t enough. Your hands aimlessly search for a pillow at the side of you. Anxiety strikes again. That was his pillow. Have you washed the bedding? Does it still smell like him? You can’t think about that right now, so you turn over and close your eyes. You can’t feel when you sleep.
The light is back. You can’t shut it out. You sit up, time has no meaning right now. The distant sound of the outside world creeps into your pain riddled room. How long has it been since you’ve had fresh air? Who knows. You make your way over to the window, open the curtains and crack the window, you turn to face the bed. You pick up your phone, you have worried messages from concerned friends, missed calls from family. You can deal with this later. You lay back down. You can’t think about this right now, you turn over and close your eyes. You can’t feel when you’re asleep.
It’s your first day out of the house, you’ve gone for drinks with friends. You smile at the appropriate times. You laugh when prompted. You’re doing well. Damn it, at least you thought you were, she’s noticed. Your best friend. Your rock. Your soulmate. She insists on staying with you tonight, when was the last time you cleaned? Did washing? You haven’t eaten so dirty dishes aren’t a concern. When was the last time you bought fresh milk? You rack your brain for anything that might be a cause for concern, either way, it’s pointless. She’s in your Uber. You’re home and in bed, you can see she has questions and concerns. She isn’t used to this version of you, she isn’t used to only having half of you. He’s taken a vital piece of you, so you can never be hole again. You don’t have time to think about that right now, so you turn over and close your eyes. You can’t feel when you’re asleep.
You laughed today. A real laugh, you felt it in your gut, you found something funny. You were sure that feeling had gone? You were sure all feeling had gone? You think about it for the rest of the day whiles idling over the computer screen. You laughed today. You think about making plans tonight. You’re not that tired today.
You listened to the radio today. You actually listened to music and enjoyed it. You sang along to the lyrics. You smiled as you hummed to the melody. You listened to the radio today.
Months have gone by, you can’t be sure of how many, but you’re finally breathing correctly. Somehow you’ve managed to tape together the hole that he left, you can’t be sure how stable the wound is, so you don’t poke it, but you’re breathing today.
You go to the room where the box with his stuff is today, you’re finally ready to get rid of it. You’ve thought about him today and you didn’t break, you didn’t die. You can think about him today. You see a plant on the windowsill as you’re picking up his box. It’s wilted, and few leaves have fallen to the ground, how long has it gone without water? Without sunlight? How has it survived?
You’ve survived today.
Thought Catalog
