On my own...

R is off on retreat this week. So I get to practice being on my own.
I used to really look forward to the odd days when he was away, a chance to do what I wanted. Now, just 4 hours in, it feels so bleak. I'm sitting here thinking that never again will there be someone who misses me when he's away. Never again will there be someone who looks forward to coming home to me. Never again will time on my own just be fun - it will be a life sentence.

21st January

That's the date. R came back (I want to say home, but home is where you feel safe and loved and I don't) with the news that he has found a flat - and he takes possession on 21st January. So quickly. I'm numb.
I'm glad in one way for him - it's a 2 bedroom flat, more than he thought he could afford. It looks lovely and he even has 3 people he knows in the area.
Where does that leave me? I shan't be able to afford as much in the areas I'm looking. I'm glad and sad and jealous and cross and sad. I'm exhausted.

No end of tears...

When on earth will the tears end? It feels as though I have none left - and yet they continue to come.
The letters arrived on people's doorsteps yesterday; today there have been the texts and phone calls. I am exhausted.
I woke again at 4am. Richard left at 6am to explore Reading as a place to live. My stomach sinks at the very thought of it. Will there ever be anything to look forward to again?

Dying 'young'

So I'm not really young. But I would welcome death. I have no suicidal thoughts (I'm not that brave) but I would not dodge death if it were presented.
It seems to me that life is about anticipating the future - thinking that there is something worth living for. It doesn't feel that way. Once R and I separate why on earth would I want to carry on? I love having him to talk to,to cook for, to be with. If there is no one to share life with, what's the point?
Sorry - a bit dark tonight.

Writing the letter

How on earth do you tell people that you are separating? I haven't found a form of words that sounds OK. And then there's the 'Why?' question that follows - and there's NO WAY I have the words for that :(
So we have written a letter to send to our closest friends. All I have to do is sign and send.
And I'm paralysed. I can't do it. I don't want to tell people - but I can't live in this semi-secret world.
Sign the letter, place it in the envelope, put a stamp on it, post it - and I can't.
That's why I'm on neat Gin tonight. Somebody please make this situation alright - please.

A confession....

Because it seems too much of an effort, I haven't bothered to shower today or wash my hair. I do it daily, so I don't think I'll offend anyone with my odour. I got dressed so that I could take him to the station (things may have ended between us but I still love him, live in the same house as him and we are very civilised about it all) and when I got back, I just hadn't got the energy to get undressed and into the rather ropey shower.
I KNOW I mustn't give up on myself,but right now the temptation to crawl into bed and stay there till I die is very strong.

Learning to rent

As if a lack of sleep, constant anxiety and nausea weren't enough, I now have to decide where I want to live for the next part of my life. Buying isn't an option - so renting (which seems such a drain of money) is what I have to do.
But where? It's too expensive here; I need somewhere that will be for years rather than months; and what happens to the furniture that won't fit????
I really can't put this off until the last moment, but I don't know where to start (and nor do I want to).