One Week.

One week. It’s been one full week. Seven whole days. Who knew that such a short amount of time could feel like an eternity?

Today has been slightly more optimistic- I have had split-second glimmers of hope and happiness. They don’t last long, but it still feels nice. The heartache and pain are still there in full force. I still dream about him every night, but last night was the first night since this happened 7 days ago that I actually slept all the way through.

I know the one main thing holding me back is knowing we will have to contact each other regarding the rent on the apartment. I know I need to move my things out as soon as possible, for me- for closure. I am going to rent a storage unit to keep everything in until I find a more permanent place to live. I dread going back there- seeing the place we used to live- the good times, the memories. I need to go in mentally prepared, strong- but all I see is myself falling apart when I walk through the door. He won’t be there, I couldn’t handle that. I can already feel that fresh new wave of pain and agony that packing up and moving out will bring. That sense of finality, of ending, of permanence. I know that it will be good as well- having my stuff out will allow me to be free, to not have a hold on the life that I had, to move forward with the new life I want to live.

Memories are coming in now- this time it is of us walking the dog in the old area of Toronto that he lived in before we moved in together. It was such a beautiful area, and we went on many long walks. So happy, so in love. I know it has only been a week, and I am nowhere near ready to move on with someone new- but that fear is still there. How will I ever be ready to be with someone else when I only want one person? The one person who, for some unfair and unknown reason, does not want or love me back in the same way anymore. How do people do it? How do people manage to shut the door on one part of their life and move on to something new and potentially better? I know it happens all of the time- I know it happens to people who are in worse situations then mine. But why do I feel like I will be the exception? The one person who will remain tortured and stuck in this emotional hell? I know…time- it takes time. But in this moment, 7 days in, this is where I am now. These are the current thoughts going through my head and these are the feelings that I am currently feeling. Will I look back 6 months from now…a year from now…and laugh and tell myself that deep down I knew things would get better? That I would move on? Will my blog post topics shift from the day to day pain and memories of now, to fun and excitement of the future-now? I am hopeful…but I am not 100% convinced. Last night I burst into tears while walking my dog around the block because last year, when I was walking the dog in that exact same spot on that exact same street, I got a sweet Facebook post from him about how lucky he was to have me, how beautiful I am, and how much he missed me (he was away at the time…almost exactly a year ago to the day actually)

This weekend we had had plans. Plans I was looking forward to. Plans that will now never be. Instead this weekend I am going to a friends cottage- it was so nice of her to invite me. Fresh air and a change of scenery will be nice- though it was hard for me to say yes. Everything is hard at the moment- like I said yesterday, even getting out of bed is a struggle- but I know the only way to move forward and onward is to keep busy, keep distracted, and not lay in bed all day (as much as I would love to do that, and only that, until the end of time)

Pushing forward one painful breath at a time…


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