When the Loneliness Gets Real

When someone you love tells you that loving you isn't enough--that they need to move on--the pain is deafening. It's numbing. Life gets unreal. It all feels like a sick joke. And this is ON the meds. I am so, so alone. Friends can't fill his place. Nothing they, or you, or anyone says can make it better. And I don't want to hear anything anyone has to say on this. I don't want to tell my friends, because I don't want to hear them say he's not good enough, or that they knew it, or that there's someone better, or why they think we don't work. I don't want them to agree with me when I say that he's a jerk. I don't want to hear the cold hard facts. I'm not stupid. I know everything they could tell me. But this has thrown me back into a place where I feel so incredibly, horribly isolated in a final, permanent, desperate sort of way. No amount of pep talks will help. In fact, they would just fill me with rage. So I won't tell anyone right now. And I will vent here. And I will turn off the comments, because I don't want to be commiserated with, or talked to at all about this. Not even from you. And I don't want to do this ever, ever again. Unless I can have him back. And I don't think I need to worry about it because no one will be there for me to try with. And I don't want to see him, or talk to him, or smell him. And I want to see him, and talk to him, and smell him. And if I had the chance to see him, and talk to him, and smell him, I would sabatoge it and say something full of venom and push him far away, and be that icy woman he has accused me of. And it would all be because I opened my heart and trusted him and showed him really vulnerable parts of myself, because he said I could trust him, when he didn't really mean that I could trust him, unless things were easy and fun and he was satisfied. Those are the terms to his love. And maybe if I weren't me, I would be enough for him. And maybe if I weren't me, it would be worth it to him to work through the hard stuff, because maybe the thought of not having me in his life would mean something to him.