I truly think that he is leaving. . . He has taken inventory of all his things and found the duffel bag. He’s made several phone calls but taken them outside. I’m a little nervous. I haven’t been alone or on my own in quite sometime. . . . . OK nervous is an understatement. . . I AM TERRIFIED. I can feel the pit of my stomach balling up like a fist. I know that we haven’t been ‘together’ for a bit now, but he’s still been here on the couch everyday and I hear the TV he’s watching. I hear him shuffle into the bathroom at night. I know I’m going to fall but I don’t know how hard or how long it will take me to get back up. I’m going to do what I do best! Smile and keep my head up like all of the other beautifully strong women in my family!
I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes because even though we have been broken up deep down inside I was hoping that we could work it out like we have so many times before. My heart hoped and prayed we could make this work for the last 8 years, but my head knows this is a dead end and I’m going no where and neither is he.
We wake up everyday and fall into the same boring routine. I cook and clean and work and go to school. He works, takes out the trash and watches sports on Television. this is not who I am at all.
For those of you who knew me before he came into my life, you know, I’m a social animal and I love people and being at parties and hanging out with people who laugh and have a good time. Since I met him, I cry and think about who I used to be and the dreams I had for many years of becoming a volunteer and working with teenagers and a handful of other things.
He has become my whole world more than once and I think this time, now that I live in a great affordable apartment and have a wonderful job with great people in my life, I’m finally ready to just let go.
I’m scared, there is no doubt about that, but I know I can make it. I know I can be on my own and not turn back. Do I love him? Of course I do. I may always love him. Sometimes, love is just not enough.
So, here comes goodbye. . . Brace yourselves. . .