Tainted Sundays

Its been a week. One whole week since I said goodbye. Those first few days were unreal. Sunday was the first day. My favourite day, magical and beautiful, has forever been tainted with how my heart bled for the thought of really letting go.

Monday I had to keep going, life as usual, as I used to know it. But so much had gone numb inside of me. I never thought i would ever glimpse depression the way i did after you. I miss you so much. My whole body aches when i realize once again that you’re not mine to hold anymore. You never will be again. For so long I could only think of how you did me wrong, and you did, that will never change or go away. But I love you.

I was numb for the rest of the week, keeping it all in, trying to process internally and be okay. I had been battling with this decision for weeks, after all. Then Sunday came around again. I was listening to Lauv sing about Julia, saying he’s sorry. The catch in his voice sent me tumbling. Before i knew it, i was crying, sobbing. I lost you.

I weep for losing you. I weep for losing the pieces of me that broke off in this season. I cant get them back. They blew away like winter leaves in the August winds. My bones are weak with despair.

I weep for your broken heart. Who are you without me? I spent the best part of two years building you up. Now you have to stand alone, face this world by yourself. Will you be alright? When you had me there was nothing you couldn’t do. No one you couldn’t be.

I’ve always told you that I wish you could see yourself the way I do. Beautiful, strong, magnificent. Your ambition like a breathtaking waterfall, your loyalty like a protective brother’s, your wide eyed optimism like a lovely child. Your passion fierce like a lion with a glorious mane. So free and captivating. I hope that this is what I left with you, the assurance that you are better than anyone could ever imagine.

It cuts me so deep knowing that when it came to me your lion-like passion only wanted to devour me. Rip me limb from limb until I was only a pile of dry bones in the corner. And every time my skin grew back, it was a little thinner that before and you could destroy me easier than before. Now I have open wounds, scars in the shape of “not enough” and “get out”. When I cry everything pours out of these wounds and before I know it, I’m empty again.

Nothing changes the fact that you held my heart for such a long time. I’ve wandered around for the last week constantly feeling that I’m forgetting something. That I left something behind.

I am not doing well at all. I wish I could tell you how much it hurts. That this is not easy. That I am sorry.