It’s 7:31 pm Sunday night, I’ve been waiting a whole hour to be seated at the bar since the ratchets decided to have a big ass brawl at the local Friday’s.
Came across a new blogger and immediately connected. Just to sum up what I have read, she told an old lover that she was lonely.
I’m lonely. And I’ve known this for some time now. My parents are literally 10 blocks away from me, my sister is still there too, I live with my cousin, I speak to my best friends often, but I can’t shake this shit.
I’m lonely with love. I wrote him a letter and sent it in a card, told him that what I am going through is Rehab. Currently I am trying to learn to shed the love that I have for this man daily. It’s really hard to do when someone has been apart of your world consistently. What makes it so much harder is that I didn’t really know how much I truly loved this guy until our intimacy needed to end.
I fought with myself for months trying to find a way to still have him selfishly. “Being friends” after falling in love. Shit makes no sense. How do I separate the idea that he’ll belong to anyone else but me. Nah, fuck this. I just can’t speak to him until I am okay.
But what’s so scary is that, I really don’t think I’ll ever be okay. This love is a different kind of love. Break ups are hard for me but nothing like this one. Usually I’ll be good after a month or over of separation. Not to start dating again, but my functioning would be okay. Not this time. I fall apart when I wake up, when I leave work, when I’m walking to my car, when I’m in the shower, when I go to bed, and even in my damn sleep.
I guess when you love someone who doesn’t hurt you, it is harder to let them go. That’s the part that hurts the most. Coming to grips and reality that I’m in this boat again. Having to communicate with other men when I am not interested, but only because I am not alone.
But I’m trying. Taking this as a teaching moment.