I've lost about 10lb in the past few weeks. Even thinking about eating makes me want to vomit. Not that I'm complaining. That covid-19 weight gain was no joke. I still can't drink alcohol for any amount of stress relief; it just sends me into a tailspin of tears.
I've been taking long walks, trying to stay mindful. Enjoying the flowers and sounds. I intentionally choose roads with lots of people (very against my usual), just so I'm not alone. But I also hope to somehow run into her, if I'm being honest.
Listen, I am SO SAD. I don't remember a time where my life has felt so bleak (I guess it would be my last major breakup in 2015, when I had no one and had to rebuild. I lost 25lb in three months and burnt out and cried every single day and then fell for a woman who was the MOST unavailable person I've ever met. Those were really tough times). I don't know what I've done to myself.
B and I had a very small life. None of my friends, as I've mentioned before, liked her. So I rarely saw them. And if I'm being honest, I didn't feel a huge connection to many of them anyway. This is status-quo for me, though. I think. I hardly remember.
And then, when we got out of the honeymoon period, she would often cause massive conflict when I did try to see anyone besides her. This is part of her anxious attachment style. Though she loved her autonomy, when I tried to have mine, she felt unimportant. My spare time is more limited than hers; I have a child and a demanding job. A job that would often take me away on weekends (pre-covid) and that was hard for her. But it became more and more difficult. She would cause fights during my biggest shows, she'd get mad at me for posting on IG and not send her texts. I tried so hard, for the past six years, to be everything for her and she always found fault.
Anyway, in order to stop the fights and turmoil, I rarely saw people that were not her or her friends. I know. This was stupid. But it was the path of least resistance. And I'm responsible for that decision. And honestly? I don't know if I really met anyone that excited me enough to really pursue anyway. I had enough on my plate. And the pandemic really fucked me up even more, socially.
So now she's gone and all of those friends are too. Cottage weekends are off the table. Camp weekends are (probably) off the table with TB (I can't see how it wouldn't be awkward). And my sad, pathetic attempts to reconnect with the friends I've basically ignored for years (again, pandemic didn't help) literally go unanswered. There is no one left. And I honestly have no idea how to rebuild.
I realized last night that maybe I'm not a good friend? I am so distracted, often busy, weird? Cold? Intense? I don't know. But here I am, 43 and single and alone. Like, if it wasn't for my foster cats I would speak to no one when I'm not at work. And I don't know how to get out of this situation. But really. Maybe I'm not a good friend... I have to look at that.
My whole life has fallen apart. Again.
--
There have been zero "breadcrumbs"
She stopped watching my IG Stories right away, but then happened to look at the ONE TIME I mentioned that my love life was non-existent (when I was addressing that a lot of followers didn't know I was queer- and it's because I don't often talk about my (non-existent) love life online). I didn't expect her to see it, and when I saw she had, I immediately deleted the story. There were only a little over 120 viewers, but it was too late. I know it hurt her, and I know she would have felt even more erased and hidden than she already did.
Anyway. We exchanged keys. She dropped mine off in an envelope with Gillian on the front. A week later, I dropped hers off with the Barbados dollars and the keychain we bought in Niagara Falls years ago, and a little note that said, "I guess you were right again. <3 G" because I swore up and down that I didn't have her key. I found it by accident. I wrote the note to make her smile. My assistant told me she'd never have given the key back because she wouldn't have wanted to admit she was wrong. But I knew B would be smug and find joy in me conceding to the fact that I was wrong. Just like the Barbados money in 2017.
Nothing back.
No texts. No messages. Her best friend T will just say, "I don't know" when I ask her questions. There is not a single hint of her missing me (I know she did or does), thinking about me, wanting to try again (because we all know how that will end), or that I will ever speak to her again. It is probably best this way, but my RSD and dopamine deficiency and literal trauma makes it feel heartbreaking every day, and it's only getting worse. She's gone. Forever. This is good. But it feels so bad.
I blocked her on WhatsApp immediately (along with blocking her on all of my social media, text, etc) in late May when I ended it. But slowly unblocked as the days and weeks went on. On June 13 I unblocked her on WhatsApp and ever since then I have been checking to see when she's last online probably 100x a day. It's so unhealthy. Sometimes I catch her online at the same time. Twice, I have started typing with no intention on sending it, just to get a reaction. Something, anything. I get nothing. Again, good. But feels so bad.
I don't even know how far down her WhatsApp list I am, or if she's participating in the same unhealthy behaviour as I am. Very likely not. I picture her checking up on me, wondering what I'm doing, who I'm talking to. I try to figure out where she is and what she's doing just based on the time she's on and how long she's gone. Like, I'm pretty sure she's away this weekend and arrived at 7:37pm and was up last night until 1am. She's probably at the cottage with her aunt. I picture her laughing and drinking red wine and sitting in front of a campfire. I picture her with a solid support system that she managed to keep while everyone else in my life dropped by the wayside. She's lucky to at least have her aunt here, and that T is such a good, enabling friend. I wonder if they know how much B shit-talks them. She's so hard on everyone. But she still has them. And I'm sure having them is making her life a hell of a lot easier than mine is right now. She can shove all those feelings down, not actually do the work on her trauma and anxiety that she needs to, start dating and restart this whole cycle again. Good for her. And me? I guess I'll just be alone forever (cause that's what it feels like).
I'm stopping doing the WhatsApp check ins because it's only making me feel worse. But it's all I had. It's pathetic and I am so sad. I am embarrassed.
10:04 a.m. - July 02, 2023
Recent entries:
Solo - July 02, 2023
"TRAUMA" - June 23, 2023
Fini. - June 17, 2023
Climbing - March 27, 2022
01 2022 - February 02, 2022
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