I allow myself to feel the full weight of it.
Feel it pressing me down farther than where I want to be.
Just like the past, I ride the waves of emotion, let them wash over me and serve as reminders of what my life once was, and the dreams I had for our lives together.
But I will not allow the waves to knock me over. I wipe away the tears, push the sadness to the back of my mind, and try to be more present in the moment.
We will be parents, we may even be friends again, one day, but what once was can never be again. Accepting that isn’t easy, and it’s not quick. It’s a process.
The nights are the hardest. It’s when I miss him the most. I want to reach for him, but he’s not there.
It’s lonely here, alone with my thoughts. I wonder why he couldn’t love me.
Surely there is something wrong with him. That’s easier than thinking there is something wrong with me, that I am unloveable.
I feel our love, our lives, slip right through my fingers.
I am helpless to stop the loss because I can’t do it alone anymore.
The weight of it is too much.
So I try to roll with it, to let it go bit-by-bit.