I’m back to just being in a relationship with myself….again. My therapist suggested that I take a season off and allow myself to heal. I’ll take that advice and maybe I’ll take even longer this time given the circumstances.

I really wanted this one to be the one. I gave it everything I had. I went all in like I hadn’t before. I put all my time and energy into it. I even went to couples counseling to try and save it. Perhaps it was all just too little too late. The timing was off. Maybe it was the stress of the state of the world. I don’t know.

My heart feels broken. It’s taking everything in me to get out of bed every day, put on a brave face and keep going. My social media would suggest I’m doing fine. I’m not, but trying to be optimistic and surround myself with things that feel good – music, kittens and growing a chia pet (I usually kill plants, so this is new for me).

In all honesty, all I really want to do is eat a tub of ice cream and stay in bed all day watching sappy lifetime movies while crying about how I’ll never have that love in my life again. But alas, I know I can’t avoid the inevitable…that I must face the emotions and continue on my path.

I just feel stripped bare, like the photo of this post might suggest. My nerves are all exposed and everything feels like an attack. Even kind words somehow hurt right now. My body hurts. My soul hurts. I want to do nothing and everything all at the same time.

It will pass, but right now, it hurts and I have to sit with it. It’s uncomfortable and makes me want to run away but I won’t. Old me would want to drink, but I wouldn’t dare. I’ve worked too hard to become the person I am today to throw it all away on a heartbreak. It’s devastating, but much like my heart break in the past, it will start to hurt less as the days go on. I’m wishing for the days to pass quickly in that respect.

But I’ll reflect on this experience as one that I can feel certain that I really tried and can’t blame my alcoholism for the premature ending. There were circumstances that forced us apart that were out of my control. I was defenseless against certain things and I needed to learn the lessons I’m learning. It wasn’t all bad and I’ll choose to think about that moving forward instead of the more bitter ending.

I’m reminded of this scene from a movie I watched while sleeping on a fold out sofa in an airbnb in Paris, France. This is the clip. The words are so strong, this is what she says (and I couldn’t say it better myself):

“Do you think I can have one more kiss?
I’ll find closure on your lips and then I’ll go.
Maybe, also one more breakfast, one more lunch and one more dinner.
I’ll be full and happy and we can part.
But in between meals, maybe we can lie in bed one more time.
One more prolonged moment where time suspends indefinitely as I rest my head on your chest.
My hope, is if we add up the one mores it will equal a lifetime
and I never have to get to the part where I have to let you go.
But that’s not real, is it?
There are no more, one mores.
I met you when everything was new and exiting and the possibilities of the world seemed endless.
And they still are, for you, for me, but not for us.
Somewhere between then and now, here and there, I guess we didn’t just grow apart, we grew up.
When something breaks, and the pieces are big enough, you can fix it.
I guess sometimes things don’t break, they shatter, but when you let the light in, shattered glass will glitter.
And in those moments, when the pieces catch the sun, I’ll remember just how beautiful it was. Just how beautiful it will always be, because it was us, and we are magic, forever.”

As I write this, tears stream down my face because endings are hard. I didn’t want this one to end. But here we are, at the end anyway. Perhaps we’ll meet again some day and things will be different and perhaps this is the final goodbye. Time will tell.

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