Six days since he ended it. I’ve been pre-occupied with work which has helped but I’m finding it increasingly difficult to keep thoughts of him at bay.
Last night I couldn’t sleep. The sadness is creeping in. I felt it washing over me in the quiet of this afternoon. I left my motel and started walking, walking my old route around the beach. I thought the waves of nostalgia at being back in this place would help distract me but the opposite is true.
I still have the drinks I bought last night in my mini fridge, untouched. I haven’t yet been able to bring myself to have a drink. I’m scared I’ll fall apart. I don’t trust myself to have even one.
I deleted his number, his messages. He’d already blocked me on the socials and somehow that hurt more than seeing his profile photo.
It’s starting to hurt. A colleague asked me about him over breakfast and I said I wasn’t ready to talk about it. And I’m not. I don’t know what I need. It’s easier to keep pushing it down, deep down so I can’t think about it.
My fear is it’s going to overwhelm me when I’m unprepared or in a work situation. I have a whole weekend of work ahead of me, talking to people, community, my client. I can’t lose it in front of them.
I’m trying to hold it together but I miss him.
butshewasfierce.com 
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