It’s December. December has always been my favorite month, for many reasons. From 12/1 through 12/31, I was always happier in general. 12/1 was always a YAY day.
Yesterday, when I realized it was 12/1, I looked for that yay feeling. I didn’t find it.
That isn’t to say I’m as low as I have been, because I’m not. Maybe the time of year is helping with that, and this year, just ok is the best I can muster. Maybe if it weren’t for my feelings about this month, my love of winter, I’d still be back in the realm of not really ok at all, and ok is too far ahead of me to see. As is, I’m ok. I wanted to talk to him last night. More than the normal background noise of wishing he were here. It was a more pronounced pain of absence than the background noise I’m used to. The pain is different now, coming up on 9.5 months out. Where at the beginning, it was sharp, searing, cutting, stabbing pain, now it’s more throbbing, persistent. It feels like a scarred over wound that aches constantly, and sometimes acts up with the weather.
Due to other things, I’ve started questioning everything I thought I knew. In my heart, I know he loved me, that I was truly important to him, but I’ve found myself entertaining the idea that it was all a lie, and he really just didn’t have the heart to tell me to bugger off. Maybe he didn’t intend for me to find him, but any text or email he sent someone else to get them to his house before me was missed or ignored or whatever. It’s not as though he left me any indication, note, anything that would show that he thought of me at all. Maybe me getting there first was just a fluke.
The thing is, as much as I believe deep down that he thought it out, that he planned things, that he wanted it to be me, that he cared about me, I’ll never know for sure. And that sucks.
He’d tell me I was being a doofus, for thinking like that. For doubting. Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. Thing is, I have no indication either way.
I just miss him.
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