I feel like Tom Hanks in Cast Away tonight, alone at sea, adrift on a raft, looking up at the stars.
It is really over. And it hurts in a way that you do not even feel pain. After all the anger and frustration subside and all the unanswered questions settle like water in a glass, I am motionless. Finally I am peacefully still.
Truthfully, I feel like part of me has died. I feel like something wonderful has been lost and I worry that the void will never be filled. I used to be afraid that if I did not miss him or feel heartbroken that I would not feel anything at all. Now I know that feeling nothing at all is strangely beautiful.
I ran this morning to try to clear my head. I tried to undo all the moments, all the kisses, all the laughs in the afternoon, all the pieces that used to fit. I tried to pull apart the puzzle… and put it back in its box.
And I did just that.
I took out the letters, the CDs, the mementos, even deleted songs off of my iTunes that had built up over time. Time has a way of collecting memories like dust. But now all my souvenirs of my love have been boxed up and tucked away. And I feel empty now, like a sold house without furniture after its occupants leave.
I wish him the best of everything… I do. The days that follow will not be easy. The nights will be long, I know. And this will all take time. But I am not ashamed to say that I am proud of how far we came- every moonlit drive along the coast, every park bench we sat on in the sun, every morning we spent sipping coffee together.
It was all real. And that means everything to me.