I don’t want to be on Facebook, because he’s not there. I don’t want to post to Tumblr. He won’t see it.
I looked at all my sites where I can usually find something of him. A note, a digital footstep, a sign of his presence. Nothing.
I finally found a sign of him, a journal entry so full of pain I literally walked to the door, keys in hand, to drive to him.
Outside is covered in multiple feet of white. A snow day so beautiful that if it had been anything but today I’d have been overjoyed. I love snow days. But this one is stopping me from going to him, unwelcome as I am, to try to staunch the bleeding, heal the pain.
He left me.
Do I throw everything away that reminds me of him?
I’d have to throw away myself. My own body reminds me of him.
Looking at the gym shoes I bought at Target to replace the ones he bought me, hurts.
Everything burns and stings.
Thinking stings enough to bring tears to my eyes.
I don’t want it to be true. I want it all to go away. I want him to come back and say “just kidding” “April fools” “I changed my mind” “I still love you”
I don’t want him to hurt. The weekends were full of healing, fun, bliss.
We were so in love, had such amazing sex, sang such pretty songs, fired such bitchin guns. We drank together, played together, fought together, scrubbed floors together. I’d not give up an instant of it to save an army. I don’t want to be the good guy anymore. I just want him back.
I didn’t know how much I leaned on his presence in my life to be ok. Every spare moment I was checking my device for a Facebook message, a fitness app note, a new Tumblr post, a new journal entry, a new music video on Facebook. His digital life was rich and… still is, I guess. I’m just not invited now.
I changed my passwords. It didn’t seem right for him to be able to walk in and out of my private places.
He cancelled his Facebook
I wonder if he’ll think it’s an accident that I left all the other avenues open. He knows my bank pin and account number, my Tumblr password, my fitness app, my fitbit. He’s my special friend on Facebook and can see every post. Hell I almost called him this morning.
Maybe I should.
Maybe I shouldn’t.
It would be totally inappropriate.
Almost surely unwelcome.
…It would almost be worth it, getting hung up on, just to hear his “hello”
I’ve been crazy about him. I guess I still am.
You are tall and handsome
You are brave
You are loved