She’s Out Of My Life

The blog posts are becoming fewer, I know, which is usually a clear sign that in my topsy turvy mind, I’m on the way back down.  Happily, not so this time round.  Now I’m in the thick of voluntary work, time is less of a luxury.

I’m enjoying it immensely.  It gives me a feeling of self respect, and also that I’m earning the small walfare payments that are paid out.  I don’t look at it as voluntary work, actually, as I am getting payment for doing it, albeit not from the organisations themselves.  I’m a working person and it feels good.

That said, I was confronted with a situation, that I know would be painful, but really was unavoidable.  The good thing is that, instead of hiding, and fretting, I confronted the issue head on.

As luck would have, the location of one of my work places is within a few hundred yards of where my ex lives.  Now, I know that logic dictates that giving into temptation, walking down that road, and knocking on the door, would lead to some sort of Pandora’s Box being opened.

Nonetheless, whatever the advice others would give to me, and I’d even say to myself, I knew this is an itch that had to be scratched, whatever pain it may cause.  Logic flies out the window during the pain of loss, but then logic doesn’t feel the agony of not knowing, of not having, of not being.

So it came to pass on my walk home yesterday.  I could feel adrenaline running through.  It wasn’t transformed into excitement though.  It was trepidation, worry.  I had no idea how I’d react.  Still, inside of me, instinct told me it was somehow the right thing.  Getting some sort of closure rather than wondering.

The street is unremarkable, and as the sun was setting, the clear skies had becoming overcast, making it almost dark.  It seemed to match the significance of what I was doing, a metaphor for all the dark times since the sunshine of being with her had been taken away from me.

I even gulped as I walked down the road.  House number after house number, nearer and nearer, looking out for that familiar silver people carrier with a hub cap missing, momentarily taking any silver car parked as hers.  Telling myself every time she’s here, she’s again so close to me.

Depression Searching

It was almost pitch black as I stood outside her home.  The silver people carrier was nowhere to be seen.  That was nothing unusual, however.  It’s a very tight road with a disproportionate number of cars parked throughout.  She often needed to park in neighbouring streets.

What was unusual, however, was the house as I stood before it.  No lights on.  No curtains on the windows.  No signs of life whatsoever.  An empty house.  And an empty hollow feeling ripping through me.

The heart beat was still quickened as I realised that, no matter what has happened, I know she doesn’t live here any more.  Whether I like it or not, wherever she is, she’s out of my life.

A wave of negative emotions overtook me.  I stood before the house for a good few minutes, hoping against hope of a movement behind the windows in the gloom.  Then panic swept through as, in my troubled mind, I still refused to accept what was plainly in front of me.

I walked up and down the street, a good half mile long, searching desperately for her car.  Each silver coloured vehicle was checked.  My heart skipped a beat when one car started with the same registration number.  Oh my …. oh.  A good half hour of walking up and down like some cheap prostitute later, I came to a conclusion.  “Her car must be parked in a nearby street.”

For a moment I considered searching every road within a half mile radius.  Just in case.  At that point, though, even I realised the insanity of what I was thinking.  I took one last, longing, loving look at where she used to live, and sadly trudged home, eyes moistening, suicidal thoughts permeating my mind for the first time in a week.

A strange thing happened though.  As I let myself in at my own home, fully aware it will be probably as a single person for a considerable time, a weight lifted off me.  The sadness dissipated.  There was a sense of at least partial closure.  She’s not around any more so it’s not worth fretting or searching for.

It’s carried on today.  I’m feeling positive.  Of course, I miss her dreadfully.  She’s gone but my love for her never will.  I just feel, though, not quite closure, but confirmation I will never see her again, hear her voice again, adore her again.  It’s sad but life really is going on.

And on that note, it’s time to get stuck into work.  Life really is getting better.  Even if sometimes I can’t feel it.  She’s out of my life.

And I’m out of the mess I was in.


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