Gone

Most things are getting easier, mostly. However, as I have said before, on the occasional nap (I have always hated naps) and right when I wake up, those times are getting worse. Not that I’m sitting there bawling my eyes out (the medicine really does make it where I can hardly cry—which worries me a bit, but it is such a welcome relief), but his absence his so palpable. His side of the bed seems even more empty. Knowing he is out there waking up somewhere, that he chooses to not be by my side, is clearest at that time. Not really sure why that is, but that’s how it is.

Facebook and Connexion have been great to feel more connected to people, which I need so much right now, but they have also been curses. I always know what Chad is doing, which is helpful and harmful. On Connexion, on his profile, Chad still had the pictures of us we took at one of those photo booths when we first started dating (they are my favorite pictures of us). Well, yesterday, he took them off. He didn’t replace them, he just took them off. Granted, I took them off my a few weeks ago, but only because I had to do it first. There are several things I have done because I needed to do them first. Not to hurt him or try to get him back, but just so I would have a little more strength when I found out he had done them too. It would have killed me for some reason the other way around. Even now it is shocking how much it hurts to not have our pictures on his profile. However, under who he wants to meet, it still says, nine weeks later: “. . . as for meeting a man to love, to laugh with, to call my own, i have already met him. I love you brandon.” I know he probably just doesn’t remember that it is there. And I know that it doesn’t mean he still loves me or that he will come back. However, it is some degree of comfort (if nothing else a reminder of how he used to love me), and I dread when I look and it will be gone. It’s the only thing I really have left that shows the world he used to care for me.

I don’t know why you are still reading these posts. I can’t imagine wanting to read someone go on and on for months about this shit. I also don’t know why I think about it, it’s not like I’m making anyone read it. However, I know everyone is thinking, “Oh my God, get over it, he’s not coming back!” And, I know you’re right. I just don’t want you to be right. I want him to come back more than anything. And even though I am handling things better and functioning better, I somehow miss him even more. To a less in shock reactionary way, and just a pure the-man-I-want-to-spend-the-rest-of-my-life-with is gone and it shatters me kind of way.