the void

It seems I have fallen into a pattern, one I don’t think I can control necessarily, although I do honestly try. It has started taking me over in the moments right before and right after sleep, and if I happen to fall asleep during the day, it is worse. For those moments (I don’t know if they are dreams or what), Chad is back. I’m not sitting there wishing he were back, in the dreams (or whatever) he is just back. Everything is right again. It is such an empty feeling when I wake up (or whatever) and realized he’s not. That it wasn’t real.

I’ve been amazed how good I am doing over all. I am writing like mad, and it is helpful to loose myself in the fantasy world I have created. I think I am almost done with the first draft, and it makes me nervous about where my mind will go when that is done. I am also with people all the time. Lots of my old (true) friends, and lots of new ones that seem to be pouring out of the woodwork. Despite me not being quiet so crazy anymore and not crying (I think the meds make it harder to cry—even during movies where I would be sobbing, I don’t—but for now, I am ok with that. I was so tired of crying), there isn’t an hour (sometimes minute) that goes by that I don’t wait for him to come back, wait for him to think of me, wait for him to remember that he loved me, wait for him to remember that I would give my life to him. As my dad said, ‘He’s not coming. It’s been this long, obviously he’s found something that he wants to be doing instead.’ Obviously. That doesn’t mean he won’t wake up and be Chad again. Right. I’m sure he’s polishing our house key, that he still has, right now and getting ready to use it.

I wonder if he is even able to remember what it felt like when he still loved me. If he ever misses it all. Misses me. It sure doesn’t seem like it.