My psych asked me yesterday if I had considered calling him to tell him how I felt, suggesting that maybe he thought I wouldn’t answer a call from him.
Or what would I do if he contacted me and told me it was all a mistake. What would I do if he contacted me in a month or two months’ time.
I understand the intention behind this line of questioning; it’s to give me hope. If we have hope, we perk, we buck, we keep it together, gain strength, get back up.
I’ve been down that path. I did it with Married. Every single time he implied he had feelings, I grasped to the suggestion with the tips of my fingers like a mountain climber clinging precariously to a cliff face.
The problem is that unless you keep moving, you will eventually lose that hold. You fall or you move forward. Usually I fell.
I’m tired of falling. I’m tired of reading between the lines, of deciphering mixed messages, of looking for signs and signals that just don’t exist. It’s exhausting.
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