More things have happened, and I’m really not in the mood to talk about them. Jim is a completely different person now and acts so harsh and cold to me that he can’t possibly care about me at all anymore. I don’t understand. It hurts. I can’t sleep or eat and I cry even at work. I don’t want this. I tried. I thought I was a good person, I thought it was going to be okay. But he hates me. And that honestly makes me hate myself.
"This is an apology letter to the both of us for how long it took me to let things go."
— Buddy Wakefield; Hurling Crowbirds at Mockingbars
I still have his sweatshirt. It’s his soccer sweatshirt with his name on the back from high school. It’s big on me, and I rarely wear it anymore. But I sleep with it every night. I curl up with it in my arms and lay my head on it. It’s been my safety blanket. When we were together I’d wear it when I was sick or feeling icky. I’ve cried into it a million times, and taken it on vacations. It’s been there for me even when he couldn’t be.
But I haven’t slept with it in 3 days. It’s hard. Harder than you’d think. That thing is symbolic. I have to give it back to him…I washed it, and haven’t allowed myself to touch it since. I toss and turn without it to cuddle. It sounds so stupid and silly when I write it out like this, but it’s the truth.
It’s like if I give that back to him, then it’s really truly over. And I’m all alone. Again.
You were the only light that ever came into my life.
Everyone else was just a false hope, a false start, a false light.
You were the only good thing, the only thing that brought out the best in me.