Reality

Yesterday evening was a write-off so I bombed myself out at 8:30 and reluctantly got out of bed 12 hours later.

The reality just seems so harsh; I think it is only just beginning to sink in that he will not be part of my life, and that waking up is going to be like this every day for a while. This morning I woke up and found myself thinking about what today might have been like if none of this had happened.

Bad move.

I wonder whether the reality is sinking in for him yet? It must be different for him, partly because he made the decision but also because he is still living in the house we shared, bits of me and bits of us are still everywhere around him, the place probably still smells of me and there are visual reminders everywhere. I went out for a coffee with my friend M yesterday and he said that perhaps the reality was hitting me harder and more quickly because of all the physical changes in my environment - that is, being back at my parents', moving all my stuff, going home to a different place at the end of the day, living with my family again.

I wonder if this really feels like what he wants?

I've found the temptation to call increasingly difficult over the last couple of days. It just seems so simple - pick up the phone, hear his voice at the other end, talk. I suppose that would be followed by "cry, feel awful, end up back at square one".

I'm not sure whether it's a good or a bad thing that I'm not working at the moment. On the one hand, I'm not sure I could drag myself up to do it. On the other, it would be at least a partial distraction from all of this. I've been dreading this week a bit because I'm alone at home during the days, far too much time to think and obsess and wonder and muse and brood.