Silence....

(Again, for those not interested in my personal thoughts, feel free to avoid this post. Self therapy is in session.)

Sometimes the silence is deafening. Thoughts are constant, and there are memories that could be evoked by anything I see and here. But in the silence, where there's nothing, the thoughts are there. Whether they be memories of being with her, or just the recognition that she's gone, that I'm alone right now.

I can't remember ever feeling this way after a break-up. In one moment, I want nothing more than to be with her again, to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her one last time, to tell her that I love her. In another moment, I'm glad that it's over, that I'm not going to have to worry about her being upset about something else, that I won't have to walk on eggshells whenever I'm around her, that I won't have to bend over backwards anymore to make her happy. In another moment I feel angry that she could so easily walk away, that she could so easily just leave without talking to me, that it seems like our entire relationship meant nothing to her.

Yet, for all that, the majority of the time, it seems there's nothing, just a numbness. Just a feeling of unending quiet. It's strange, because I know there's supposed to be something, but it just isn't there. My emotions feel like they're on hold.

And I wonder, how long will this take? Am I just not moving through the normal process of mourning? How long until I feel normal again, at least until my emotions are where they should be?

Maybe it's just because I'm torn emotionally about things ending. Maybe it's just that there was never any real closure.

And I know there's no going back. I know that there's nothing that either of us could say or do that would bring back what was there, even if the feelings remain, the line has been crossed, the point of no return as been reached. Acceptance is there, I accept that it is over, quoth the raven, "nevermore".

And if I could tell her I love her, I would. And if she told me she loved me, I might believer her. If I could run my fingers through her hair, and kiss her, and hold her close, I might. And if I could just put her out of my mind completely, I might live with that as well, because I want nothing more than to move on, even if I want nothing more than to be with her again.

It's been eight days since I last kissed her, last felt her skin. It's been a week since I last heard her voice. It's been six days since she took all of her clothes. It's been 4 days since she took everything else. It's been one day since I last looked at her picture. And I'm sure it will be some time before I finally stop thinking about it all.

There are, of course, worse ways for things to end, and things even worse than having it end. But still... it's my little tragedy, right now, and I'm just trying to work through it the best way I know how.