The thing about sorrow is you never know when it's going to hit you.
Some days I feel like I might make it through the entire day without crying. I keep myself busy at work and try not to focus on this weird gaping hole in my life. If I find myself daydreaming about the past, I remind myself of the things that make me angry about it all. I listen to a song I love. I text a friend. My day may revolve around all the little coping mechanisms of a person in mourning, but I find a way to get through the day and that's enough to keep me going.
I google sad quotes way more than a person probably should.
But then the right vibration in the universe hits me, and I'm a mess. I feel this suffocating despair that I can't even begin to understand. Logically, I know it doesn't make sense. No one is that special. No one can matter so much that I can't get past their leaving, but it's like my body doesn't know that. My body doesn't understand the lies and deception. It doesn't understand the cloying smell of her perfume on his skin. It just longs and craves like the stupid collection of nerves and memories that it is.
I am tired of missing someone who doesn't miss me. I am tired of missing something that doesn't even exist. In a weird way that almost makes it worse. It's not him who I miss (though obviously I do). It's the idea of who he was that I don't want to let go of. It's the trust and love that I had in him. The fragile precious hope for the future that I miss. I miss the Alana who believed in those things. A version of me that was lovely and soft and vulnerable. I was also stupid as hell don't get me wrong, but I am okay with being the one who really tried. Even when I had every reason not to.
He once said he thought his messy life would be a deal breaker for me. It wasn't though and I am proud of myself for that. It never would have gotten too messy for me.
And I shouldn't feel bad for that.
Even if he begged for me to forgive him and give him another chance, that Alana is gone.
Don't get me wrong, I know he won't. I think everyone who has ever had their heart broken secretly wishes that their ex lover will wise up and come running back. I know life doesn't work like that, but that's not my point. My point is that what I miss more than anything is the person I was before all this happened. I think that's what I'm having a hard time letting go of.
I wonder if he misses it too.