I know love is the loneliest place when you fall alone (part VII)

"To stray from built order is to confront the man with a gun."
~~Adam Gopnik

(Continued from part VI.)

The first of several short ones.

Jul 6, 2012, 4:52 AM

[given name],

I don't like not writing you. But today was the first fairly calm day I've had in over a month, and it's the first night I feel as if I'll be able to leave the keys, and go to sleep. I don't entirely know why I got so wrapped up in you, but I'm pulling away as much as I can stand, and trying to focus on making my life work again, over why your life separated from mine.

When I have to, I'll take other days off; in the meantime, trying to obey You in looser fashion, and see how it goes.

I'll be here when you get back, if you ever do, and I do love you.

[Em]

This was followed by

Jul 7, 2012, 12:45 AM

Master,

For most of the evening, I've been resting and fairly immobile; I'm keeping dinner down but I have a severe migraine, so I didn't even return to the keys until nearly midnight. I am currently buffered by more painkiller than I want, and carefully breathing until four, where--if I'm still having pain--I'll take my nightly meds, which include ibuprofen, and be off to bed.

I'm still worried about you. I still love you. I'm still here. What I don't know is where you are, but I'm starting to let go of needing to know. You'll tell me, or you won't, and life goes on either way. And though I'm not entirely sure what it means at this point, I still consider myself~

Yours.

[Em]

A slightly longer missive to finish this entry.

Sat, Jul 7, 2012, 9:49 PM

[given name],

Today did not go well. It was punishingly hot, and I didn't respond as quickly as I should have, or there were still lingering traces of last night's migraine. Either way, I quickly grew dizzy and disoriented, and by the time I really thought it through, I was only able to stagger to the reclining chair, where I stayed, half-conscious, until the girls arrived home from shopping. They've been feeding me cold water and sips of juice, and I'm starting to pull out of it. But it was kind of scary. I'm still not all the way back to stable, and my head feels like a drum skin that's been stretched too far.

Because I don't have an effective lead-in to this today, I'll just say it: I've been talking with some friends about our situation, and this was my last reply to one of them:

"Admittedly, that's one of the things I'm afraid of. Survived everything to this point; went into therapy for two years to deal with some of my issues, and get a handle on the others; and finally, the life seemed to be solid, improving...stable.

"Then...this. And it threw me so intensely, I was actually terrified by the depth of my reaction. Thankfully, I have tools now from my therapist and I got a handle on things within two or three weeks from the collapse, but I'm still not back to stable yet.

"It's interesting, too. Half of me is afraid I'll never hear from him again, which would be a great tragedy in my life. But the other half? The other half is fearful he'll slip back by as if nothing happened over these last four months. Four months (or longer) that I spent in severe emotional disarray, begging him to contact me somehow. Four months where it was proven by silence that it doesn't matter if I'm crying over his loss, begging him to talk to me again, or ignoring him completely--I'm not important enough to him to even send out a single line to reassure me.

"That's like razors on raw flesh. And the longer I'm left with only silence as answer means I'm going to assume things that could be wrong, I'm going to make mistakes in what I think and feel, but...I don't see another choice.

"And at this point, if I do give up, then I'm doing it on my terms, too. Until I hear from him, he's effectively made the choice to be out of my life. There's a lot of pain behind that knowledge, but it's where we are. I don't have to like it, but I do have to accept it if I'm going to go anywhere worth going."

This is what I know at this point: I'm not saying goodbye. I don't feel like I'm Yours, most of the time now; or put another way, I don't feel as if I'm protected and loved (at least, by You; I know the girls love me, and they are supporting me all that they can), but I'm not saying goodbye.

This is stubborn; I recognize that. And it will hurt me if you do intend on staying away longer, or even forever. I don't deny that. On the other hand, I've already been hurt by the past four months so, in a sense, I'm already there. I accept this pain.

But if you're too cowardly even to send me a simple text message, just one simple line saying you're *alive*...then you really don't have any room to complain. I'm still here--I haven't left--but today I stop obsessing, I stop fretting over things I can't change.

When I feel it's important, I'll write. I'll try to work on my writing and figure out if there's any ending for either story, or start a new one. And while I have no interest in dating, roleplay, or online relationships in general--I''m stepping away from those rules, too.

And if you disagree, you're welcome to talk to me. Ball's in your court.

[Em]

You know the refrain by now. No further word.

More to come.