It's surprising how much I've relied on music the past few weeks. Right now, music is the most comforting thing, to know that I'm not alone in my feelings, that someone else in the world has felt the same way I do.

Something in me has snapped. For now, at least, I am no longer yearning to be back in your arms. Rather, I would like to lash out at you for everything you've done to me, everything you've put me through. It takes almost all my strength to remain composed and amiable while I talk to you. I promise you empty words, Of course I'd still like to be friends, but in reality I do not want anything to do with you from here on. You can't have everything you want, and up until now I have been providing and enabling all of that for you. But at the bottom of everything, you broke my heart, and that isn't something you "cool off" from.

This is from another time, another life. When we were in love and happy and only experienced occasional speed bumps in my mental sanity as compared to now. When he would allow himself to be dragged along for the ride simply because he wanted to be with me. When we had friends and songs and our children all planned out.

None of this is the case anymore.

What I thought were moderate anxiety attacks then are now considered a walk in the park. When I couldn't breathe and felt claustropobic by being inside a house last summer, I now don't eat for days at a time, get nauseous sporatically, and don't sleep. My trigger thoughts and phrases from the summer are laughable "monsters under the bed", compared to my current trigger thoughts.

tient à coeur

Anxiety swells up in a knot right in my stomach every time I think about coming home, being near you again. And I know you won't reach out to me, you don't care, you won't give me the time of day and you won't try to make this right. You will always make me come to you, you will give me all the time I need or want, you will never be the first to open up. I am terrified to the point of paralysis of seeing out in the street, maybe pumping gas or pulling out of McDonald's with your cousin. And I know this is one of the few chances I'll have, the slim time frame in between when you deem morally acceptable to dump your girlfriend and then move onto the next one.

Tomorrow night I will enter the heart of a warzone, fifteen minutes away from the enemy. Shaking to the core, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, eyes peeled for any sign of you. Every Nissan is a target, every stickered bumper is a red flag. Having to carry around this heavy, broken heart is tiresome, and the only person who can fix it is you. And somehow, I'm afraid that it will lead me straight to you.

I ended up tricking myself into believing I could do any of this without you; into believing that I could move on. I'm completely lost, I have absolutely no idea of anything I want anymore. I need other people to remind me to eat, to give me my pill, to take me to class, to move me out of the way of people and pavement and moving cars.

Going home makes me afraid, but nevertheless, I have to do it. I have to go and retreat into my house with my family and my cat and the love that I had before you. To remind myself that it's still there, it will always be there.