I am alone.
In the morning there is no-one there. There is no-one there for the ‘hello’ in the morning at breakfast; no-one for the good-bye kiss as we each head off in the morning; or return at night; no-one to have dinner with; no-one to chat about the daily activities – ‘what did you do today?’. There is no-one to go to bed with at night; and then – guaranteed – no-one to wake up beside in the morning.
So I awake each day in absolute pain and I am completely raw inside. I am aching inside with the feeling of being stabbed in the heart. I do not think it is possible to understand the pain that is felt by the action of desertion until it actually occurs. It is just not possible for me to describe the pain. I cannot fathom out what has happened; the loss of my soul-mate; my one and only; our forever; our togetherness; the loss of the meaning of trust and truth. I cannot fathom out the betrayal and the feelings of abandonment.
My life is now foreign and unfamiliar and I drift along. My life has been busy and full and rewarding and now it is blank.
I am panicking all the time and I am not one who normally panics. I am crying all the time, alone in my office, alone in my bed, alone in my car, alone in the evening that stretches before me. Every song I listen to makes me cry. Every movie I watch makes me cry. Little things set me off. Opening our cheque book and seeing our joint names. Coming across letters he had written to me. Staring at his record collection. His pictures. His books. Our photos on the walls.
Where has my strength gone? Nothing that I normally do to help me through tough times is helping me. I searched the internet for help. There are people out there who have survived. I read their stories for inspiration. I did some soul searching for answers as to what could have happened. These are the questions. What happened? What went wrong? How could this be? What happened to the strong partnership that was that would survive through triumphs and tragedies? What happened to trust? These are the questions. There are no answers for me today.
And I am all alone, completely alone.
This is my story written in an approaching southern hemisphere winter recounting the eight months since my second life began. This was how I felt – Week 2 October 02 2011.
I’m so sorry for your pain. I hope that things have begun to improve for you.
As I was reading this, I realized you were able to capture everything that I’m so scared about right now. The thought of being alone is almost paralyzing to me, and I’m not sure how I’ll handle thing should it come to that. Your strength amazes me and from reading several of your other blogs I am glad to see that your positive side is shining through more and more with each passing hour, day, and week.
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