One Month

Today is the day; one month since Former-Sweetheart called it quits on us.

I'm pretty focused on keeping myself together and moving on. I'm looking for a house, saving my money, walking the dog, hanging out with Son, doing my usual stuff.

But I'm cold inside. There's a bleak, frozen, windswept nothing where Love used to be. Questions, the same questions I asked a month ago and never got a straight answer to, hang like a stone around my neck. Most days I accept the weight and soldier on; most days I understand that I will likely never get an answer, that there probably isn't one.

And then there are days like today, when memories come calling and realizations hit full on when you least expect it. Like when I removed the sailing club sticker from my car window this afternoon and replaced it with a skate park one that Son gave me. I loved sailing. It was intimate and exciting and truly lovely and bonding for FS and I. He says we'll still go, but I have my doubts. And unless I meet someone else who sails, I may never go again.

And there are the dreams. Dreams of lying in his arms, dreams of touching him again, dreams that feel so vivid and real. Dreams that make me hope, deep down in the bottom-left drawer of my heart, that he'll come home tonight and say, "I made a mistake." "I still love you." "I want to try." And he comes home and nothing happens and he's so obviously content with the new status quo that I want to pound him flat for being so disaffected, so neutral, so... gone.

I know it won't be like this forever. But some days I wish I could make time hurry up.