I walked into my living and sat begrudgingly on the sofa. My body sat there while my mind was in another area entire. Physically, I was staring at my cream colored walls, my hands placed on my legs. There were a few moments where I forgot to blink and tears would run down my face. Then I would forget to put my hands up to wipe my cheeks clean. I had also forgotten to eat or drink anything for about 36 hours. I had been leaning on my left arm for so long that it fell asleep. I don’t even know how I had managed to get up off of the ground in the first place. As I collapsed over onto my side, I was still in total disarray and empty-mindedness.
My mind was spinning and circulating like a carnival ride for hours. Both my mind and my stomach coincided together, as my stomach turned out of hunger, anger, and fear, and my mind continued to rotate in a hamster ball like fashion. My thoughts were being hushed by images and then the images were being blinded by my jealous emotions trying to get the attention they felt that they deserved. It was as if all of them were competing in my head to win a prize of who could remind the most of what I had lost.
Everyone has recurring thoughts that travel through their head. There’s nothing wrong with it. But at the start of these 36 hours, I had begun to lose control of them. And then they were gone off on their own. My thoughts kept whispering ideas that I had cultivated both through long periods of time and through the short hours after. They moved closer to me as if they were travelling directly ahead. I could hear them get louder. I could feel them grabbing me and pulling me and taking me. I kept involuntarily reminding myself of all the negative, self-deprecating, self-loathing, untrustworthy thoughts I had through our time together. And now there were the thoughts that had arisen shortly after. It was all my fault.
At some point, my thoughts decided to shake hands with my emotions. Any positive thought was promptly discarded, as was any positive emotion. Hate. Anger. Sadness. Loneliness. Fear. Loathing. Nervousness. Pain. My mind had opened up the cesspool and my emotions jumped in, as did I. I was drowning in what was my own traverse, deep, heart aching pool.
My body started to ache. I sat up and started to walk towards the door. I need to get outside. Yeah. Fresh air will help. Always does. But as I walked towards the door, the images appeared like ghosts. I could see silhouettes of where she used to walk. Where she used to stand. Where she used to sit. On the couch is where we would laugh together. I would hold her in my arms as tears of laughter would stream down her face, as would mine. I could feel her with me in all of these places. The silhouettes stopped being silhouettes as they became full on figures. I could see the details in her body. I could see the color of her skin and hair, her eyes. I was reimagining all the times we spent together. Soon I ran out of the times we had at the house and it moved on from there. My mind gave me an overcast view of where we had been, where we would have been going. I could see the good times and the bad times as clear as they ever were. Every little emotion was in tact. Every sight and smell was perfectly in line with what it had been before. If the sun was shining, it was shining off her hair and into my eyes. If it was raining, I could feel her skin as the drops of rain came down one at a time. If we were talking, I could hear her voice and see the looks that she gave me. If she was crying, I was holding her close to me as I tried to console all that I could, to be for her what others couldn’t have been. I was back where I knew I was meant to be. I had lost myself in what once was and I never wanted to come back. I wanted to stay in this realm of raw human emotion, every emotion. Not just the ones that circulated in my head.
But it was wrong. Everything moved slowly. It was as if I was in a dream. The realization came all too quick. I opened my eyes and picked myself up off the ground. My head was throbbing. My stomach hurt. I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted to try to forget about the nightmare that I was living, the one thing that I had feared from the very start. Maybe my sleep would put my loneliness at bay while I ventured into the fog of my own mind.
She told me that she was leaving. She exposed my words for how truly venomous they were and the wars that I had waged against her all for nothing. I remember her reminiscing of how it didn’t used to be this way. How it felt like only a few moments ago we were walking on top of clouds, looking down at the world with a view that expanded past the horizon, expanded forward and forward till it was all just a blur. She said these things a few days before she left. As she was screaming at me, I could see her eyes turning into different colors of red. There was so much anger and disgust that was being lashed towards me.
My stomach started to turn and it would continue to do so for days after. Photographs and snapshots continued to make waves around my head until they spiraled down to my gut. The feeling of cold sadness shot throughout my body till I started shivering. As I grew colder, I felt smaller. It was as if the entire world was collapsing in on itself and I was caught in the middle.
I told her that I would see her again. I told her that my love for her would never go away. She had infected me to my very core and it was something that would never go away. I knew that much for sure.
My bed was the same as I left it two days ago. I didn’t dare go back up to it. I was all too scared of what might arise if I did. I was afraid of seeing what once was all over again. Seeing her lying there next to me as the sun rose and shining off of her hair, feeling her warmth curled up beside me as I could hear her soft breaths whisk away as she slept. The visions throughout my house would only grow stronger as I walked through my room. I imagined myself standing in the doorway and looking at the bed where she once was. I thought of myself seeing the sheets curling up where she had rested, the indentation on the pillow from where her head lay, and the sweet smell she would have left there. I envisioned myself lying back down by myself with my head circling with thoughts and images of when she was here. I would try to forget, try to imagine that it’s better now, that I’m better off. But ultimately, I would fall apart again right where I lay.
As I walked up the stairs, my head ached a little less. My stomach calmed down. The closer I got to my bed, the calmer I was. I lied down and waited. Waited for my thoughts and emotions to ravage me till I couldn’t stand. But they didn’t. I was at ease. I was calm.
I turned to lie on my side and I jumped. She was there on her side looking back at me as well. But she wasn’t and I knew it. I knew it was in my head. I knew she shouldn’t be there. I couldn’t touch her. I couldn’t kiss her. I couldn’t talk to her. I could only look. But instead of causing me heartache and headache, I was happy again. It filled up the lonely space that was next to me.
It was that way for some months. I would come to bed with her lying next to me and then falling asleep with nothing but my imagination there to comfort me. One night, I turned and she was gone. I looked around my room and she had left. Not physically. Those months with her were in my head.
But now I’m here. And she’s there. This is who I am now. This is who I choose to be. I choose to be the one that let the pain swallow him into a pit for months on end. But I also choose to be the one to move on and create something new. I don’t choose to think about her. I guess it’s just natural. She crosses my mind. I’ll be watching a movie and I might think about how she would have laughed at that joke or how she might have made a comment about what that person is wearing. I might be at a restaurant and remember what her favorite food was and she would have ordered that and only that. But it all feels natural at this point. There’s a certain calmness to it all. I feel myself thinking about it in passing, not dwelling on it like I once was.