Stillness

I woke up this morning to the same thing I've woken up to for the last six days that I've been down here in Houston visiting my family. A stillness and a silence within me, and a sense of disbelief that Raj and I are no longer together. Within the stillness there's also a feeling of being completely alone.

Later in the day, I'll feel other emotions. I'll feel sadness, disappointment, hurt, and sometimes anger. Unfortunately, I haven't felt a lot of anger since Raj and I broke up 2 weeks ago. Hopefully, the anger will eventually come. My dominant emotions have been crushing sadness, disappointment, hurt, and a sense of disbelief. I've also felt panic and anxiety, but I know that has to do with a lot more than the break-up. Lucky me, in addition to my relationship ending, almost everything else in my life is also in a state to transition (and I was already in a panic about all of that before this particular rug was ripped out from under me).

I've never gone through a break-up where I loved the person and wanted to keep trying, but they decided to leave. Which is what happened. Raj decided that after our 3 year on-and-off relationship (one year one, one year off, this past year on), he did not want to try any longer, despite continuing to love me. Obviously, I do not want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me, and I knew that the instant he said that he didn't want to try anymore. Putting aside questions as to whether this is for the best, because time will tell, I've never been on this side of a break-up. I've never felt like my heart is breaking because I love someone who I can no longer be with. Who no longer wants to be with me.

I'm sure I'm also feeling rejection and abandonment, but maybe they're too painful to deal with. Maybe that's why I wake up to the stillness. Does all of this sound pathetic? Maybe. Someone I'm not that close with recently told me, "Don't let them see you cry. Keep your chin up." I don't agree with that advice and I don't see the point of it. I know that I'm going to get past this and I'm going to come out stronger, but I'm going to have to go through a process. Crying is part of that process, and thanks to a year of therapy I no longer feel weak for feeling hurt or for crying. I'm glad that I have the capacity to feel emotions strongly. It means I have depth.

Unfortunately, depth brings pain, and that's what I feel pressing in on me on the edge of my stillness. Today, as I'm surrounded by my mom and brothers, I'm not going to give in to the pain. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. In a while, after they all wake up, we'll have breakfast, and probably see the Borat movie, which even if being horribly stupid will probably have at least a few solid laughs, which has to be good for me. Then, this afternoon I fly back to New York and the stillness of what used to be "our" apartment.

At least the apartment has half of me in it. After a week with my family, I need some me time. Even if the me time brings with it a lot of sorrow.