breaking up sucks.

Disclaimer: This is a terribly maudlin post. Normal, less sad posting to resume Wednesday.

There is no way around it: breaking up is never easy.

Even when it's a break up conducted with the hope of reunion (does that ever happen? Has that ever worked for anyone?), it's the end of something that was its own world, with its own language and customs and idiosyncrasies.

Break ups are never the sudden BOOM, some shit happened and now it's over that I pictured when I was younger. I thought that you just suddenly woke up one day, realizing that you didn't want them around anymore and kicked them to the curb and they were the only one hurting.

But it's not that at all. It's this gradual drift, this constant wondering of if it gets better, if it will ever improve, if your efforts to smile more, remember the little things, chill out means nothing.

It's the picking apart of things, sorting them into yours and mine.

It's the fear that you're forgettable.

It's the reminding yourself to stop before texting them, to resist the urge to call on them when you've had a rough day and need someone to lean on, because they don't want to or can't be that someone anymore.

It's that ache in the night, missing their body and not knowing if anyone will learn its curves and wishes and expressions like they did.

It's that wondering if it's actually the best choice.

It's unraveling the narrative of the future that you've built up in your head that includes them, however slight (like including their favorite foods on your shopping list) or grand (imagining what a house together might feel like).

It's lonely.

But you gotta push through the cold beds and loneliness and erasure of future mental plans,  hopefully for something better. Or at least a better version of what you had.

Much love,
The Sheriff

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