I’m so sick of crying. I seem to spend most of my time either worrying or crying or snapping at the children because I’m exhausted after spending the majority of the day worrying or crying.
I was laying in bed masturbating and listening to this song and fantasising about laying naked on a hot sandy beach with only the sea for company and not a single person for hundreds of miles around me. Once I had finished and my hand fell away and my leg slid back down onto the bed, I found myself staring at my husbands cd collection. I started to think about that beach. How one day I would finally be successful and rich and I would simply say to my children (who will be grown by then, I’m sure) “I’m off on holiday! Here is the number of the hotel I will be staying at.” And I will give my husband many dollars/pounds/euros whatever and tell him to go on holiday wherever he’d like because I was going on holiday by myself. Also, I am always skinny in these fantasies.
This was such a lovely, perfect thought. Until I sadly realized that I am the only one who would like this. I would hop on a plane, fly to Jamaica and spend two weeks lying on a beach, drinking cocktails and being pampered. He would drive to some campground and spend a week in a tent, probably being miserable. Additionally, he would be deeply hurt that I would not want to be with him, because he would only want to go on holiday with me.
This made me cry. For a new reason. Not for anger at what he’d done, not out of fear of the future, not out of frustration or pain. I cried because I’ve lost that. The person I loved, the person who I wanted to always be with, who I would never have wanted to go anywhere without, he is gone to me now. I cried because I no longer have love. It seems so silly and stupid given everything else, but in that moment, it was such a cold, empty feeling. He may love me, he may always love me, but I have no love left for him. That is heartbreaking to me. I loved him so much, people. He was quirky and difficult but he was funny and creative and put me on a pedestal and nothing made me happier, more comforted, more safe than enveloping myself into his arms, into his self and being part of him. Now, that is the last place I ever want to be. And I grieve for it, I suppose.
abyssusabyssum 