The Crying Game

Honestly, does a person ever reach a point where they just can't cry anymore? Each day I tell myself Ok that was really it, I'm done crying about this. But then I talk to him about the Consumer's Energy bill and the waterworks start right back up again. I wish that I could stop, but it just wells up from somewhere deep down and comes flooding out my eyes.

I've become a blubbering version of myself.

As if that weren't enough, I've somehow managed to catch a truly awful cold that has my sinuses in so much pain my right eye just kind of waters all on its own and I constantly feel like I was recently punched in the face. That blissful moment that happens every four hours or so when my Sudafed kicks in is all for naught when my phone rings.

I told him that I think it will get easier once we are able to talk to each other and not have to say things like, "No really, you keep the alarm clock, you'll use the radio setting," and, "The cable will be out of my name by Friday, if you want to call and order your own." The truth is, I don't really know if it will get easier. If I ever go to visit him in that apartment I'll cry. Every time I climb into our bed by myself I'll be sad. I find it difficult to think about him and not feel bitter disappointment rising in my chest.

I wonder about the possibility of us working things out. I wonder how long that might take. I wonder if I will find someone else. Or if someone else will find me. I am doubting and hoping for both of those things at the same time.

But to do any of that, well, that might actually require me leaving the house to do something besides go to work.

Tomorrow I go to pack up my things. Sunday the U-Haul will come to drive them all away. Maybe that will be the end. Maybe not.

I hope not.