Exactly a week ago I sat here, and I lost you. I’m in the same exact spot, except now my apartment is messy and it looks like a tornado hit it. Appropriate, I suppose, since it’s also the way I feel. A mix of new things have ended up on tables, couches, floors, and counters since- but it’s still there. The bag and sunglasses you got me that I love are on the sofa. You gave them to me as you came to let me go. How can I use them without thinking of you? I love them. I don’t want them. You insisted. The gift bag and tissue paper are on the floor. I’ve been looking at the bag and glasses on the couch next to me all week. For some reason today i noticed the tissue paper on the floor, it’s the first time I really looked at it, and that’s when it hit me, and I lost it. The tissue paper, the sleeping medicine wrapper from after, your t-shirt in my laundry room, the letter i wrote you 4 months ago. It’s all here. I meant to put it in a bag to give to you but never did it.
Tomorrow Maria Luisa will come and clean. There’s something awful about the idea of coming home to a place that looks unused. I used to enjoy it, because it was always right before the weekend, but I was always with you on the weekend. Clean apartment meant it was time to see you. To sleep with you. To wake up with you. Tomorrow, and from now on a clean apartment is just me. I have to live here without you. We never actually stayed over here, but now I do have to, and the loneliness of it all is killing me.
The girls say I seem to be doing really well. They say much beter than with B. B blindsided me and they were here for the intial few days. I didn’t love B. I was alone for 48 excrutiating hours for this with you. Nobody else was back yet.
I’ve been keeping busy- beach, work, friends, fitness classes…I was laying in bed today thinking “maybe I’m okay- not ready- but okay”. Then the power nap wasn’t enough and I skipped going to my yoga class just this one day…..and that’s when I walked into my living room and saw it there and was hit hard and fast with the devestating truth. I haven’t been handling things well- I haven’t been handling it all and sooner or later it will all hit me and I will REALLY lose it.
I unfollwed you on Facebook and Instagram. I avoid walking by your street when I come home. I deleted our Whatsapp conversation. Suddenly the most important person to me in this whole country is no longer mine. I no longer have access. I can’t see you or I’ll want to fall back into waking up with you- and I can’t handle that rejection. I can’t stand being demoted. Really, I lost access to you months ago, but it’s real now. There’s no bounce back this time. I wish I could be friends with you like you want, but I can’t see you that way again. I fell in love with that person. As soon as I start remembering that person I’m going to be torn apart again. My only hope is to keep you at a distance as someone who didn’t see me for more than 5 minutes after a month of being in different countries before breaking my heart.
I know we can never go back. It’s broken, I’m broken, but I don’t know how to go forward either. I want you to come over so I can tell you all about it, but you can’t help me.
I can’t get you out of my dreams either. Any spare moment for my mind is another trap, it wanders right to you. Nights and weekends, nights and weekends, those are my enemies now.
I don’t know how to do another year and a half without you by my side. Putting my life in order without you is awful. I already booked that resort trip for April and can’t cancel it. No trip, no cruise, no camping, no dog walks, no hikes, no sex, no How I Met Your Mother or Orange is the New Black marathons. No movie education, no gallo pinto on Saturnday mornings or stealing sips of your coffee. No more Cartago Sunday’s or business beach trips. No more gossip. No more falling asleep on your chest after an exhausting week. No more stupid jokes or movie quotes. No more singing in the kitchen or watching you do impressions. Nomore watching you stand naked in your room or rock paper scissoring to see who had to unpause the computer. No more cooking lessons or pizza creations or Whatsapp picture convos. No more pillow barriers or dengue jokes. No more ice cream with an absurd amount of whipped cream in bed.
I loved the way you used to calm me down. I loved the way you always made a joke out of things. I hated how you laughed when I cried because emotion made you uncomfortable. I hate that i cried even more. I hate that I made major decisions with you in mind because now I’m stuck with them and not you. I love how my injuries and general body messes didn’t freak you out. I hate how you stopped talking to me. I hate that I couldn’t reach you and that I had to try so hard. I hate that you stopped looking at me and being gentle. I loved how considerate you used to be. I loved how you loved my friends. I hate that we had our best moments with them, not alone. I loved the sex we had during the World Cup, in Nosara, after my surgery, and the last day of Thanksgiving break. I hate that you stopped touching me. I hate how I went home and got all new clothes, all excited that you’d have something fresh to see and some classier looks on your arm- and now I have things and not you. You never saw them. I hate that overall I wasn’t worth enough for you to want to make it work.
I hate that I thought I really was doing okay- but I’m not,
and you’re really gone.
Reviving the Spark 