I vomited this morning. My stomach can’t stop churning and my mind can’t stop thinking about everything between us. I’ve only ever cried like that with you.
I’m trying to save us. That’s all I can keep hearing but it gives me some sense of ease. I’m happy we talked. We have so much love for each other; it’s hard to ignore it. You still love me. I could hear it in the softness of your tone and the intention of your call alone was enough for me to know. But there’s also so much pain in our voices. I should be regretting this, hoping for you to forget me but I can’t help but feel relief. I can’t help it. It’s selfish, I’m sorry. Maybe it’s because as hard as this is I know that we’re feeling the exact same way. We’re struggling together. We’re fighting for our lives and for each other to finally be happy. To move on.
I thought I had been handling my emotions a little better this week. I’ve been drinking every night. Not too much though. It helps. I’ve been putting everything out of my mind. But as soon as I see any sense of compassion from you, I crumble and I get pulled under. Like being caught in the undertow, I keep getting dragged back and I can’t move on. Do you truly want me to move on? (I wonder.) Hate me. Hurt me. Give me mercy and just blow my brains out.
The world reminds me of you. Everywhere I go. Everything I see. I keep writing you letters that I may never send. I keep taking photos of things I may never share. It’s my way of coping, perhaps. There are so many things I wish I could show and say to you but I’m still so terrified of the thought of interacting with you. I don’t want it to be hard on you too.
How did we ever get like this? I wish it were different. I’m sorry for everything.