![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
"just to see each other through it"
Nov. 12th, 2014 12:31 pmthis feeling of hopelessness is terrifying.
I want him to ask me how I am. i want to feel like he's thinking about me when he's not with me, and I think that telling me he is, or having the-fun-kind-of-devious plans, or thoughtful questions. I want grief to not sit so thick in my throat that it is hard to swallow past, hard to talk past. Sometimes, I tell myself lists of all of the things that didn't destroy me, despite my own best efforts at the time, but it's not so much self-comforting as self-shaming, trying to get up off the couch and do anything.
And it feels like everyone's an engineer now (i think I've even internalized one who gets along really, really well with my internal critic and they are happily pursuing a joint project of convincing me exactly how much I suckl), asking me to tell them specifically and explicit what I've lost that gives me this feeling of abandonment. And since it feels like what I've lost is his focus, that I'm more obstacle to his desires than partner with whom he wants a life that he's not moving towards me anymore, I can't put my finger on it. And of course there's not much joy to be had, but I'm still trying to fight for the place where he is good to me and I to him and we love each other and like each other and have found spaces in our lives for each other that maybe he gives a little more than he wants and I get a little less than I want and vice versa, but it's okay because we act from kind places. Maybe that's what it feels like I've lost, the sense of all around kindness.
My mouth tastes like fear. I hope someday I'll look back on this and say it was an experience that made our connection stronger, even if it sucked to go through. I'm afraid I won't.
I want him to ask me how I am. i want to feel like he's thinking about me when he's not with me, and I think that telling me he is, or having the-fun-kind-of-devious plans, or thoughtful questions. I want grief to not sit so thick in my throat that it is hard to swallow past, hard to talk past. Sometimes, I tell myself lists of all of the things that didn't destroy me, despite my own best efforts at the time, but it's not so much self-comforting as self-shaming, trying to get up off the couch and do anything.
And it feels like everyone's an engineer now (i think I've even internalized one who gets along really, really well with my internal critic and they are happily pursuing a joint project of convincing me exactly how much I suckl), asking me to tell them specifically and explicit what I've lost that gives me this feeling of abandonment. And since it feels like what I've lost is his focus, that I'm more obstacle to his desires than partner with whom he wants a life that he's not moving towards me anymore, I can't put my finger on it. And of course there's not much joy to be had, but I'm still trying to fight for the place where he is good to me and I to him and we love each other and like each other and have found spaces in our lives for each other that maybe he gives a little more than he wants and I get a little less than I want and vice versa, but it's okay because we act from kind places. Maybe that's what it feels like I've lost, the sense of all around kindness.
My mouth tastes like fear. I hope someday I'll look back on this and say it was an experience that made our connection stronger, even if it sucked to go through. I'm afraid I won't.
