I've started packing things into boxes - books, DVDs, etc. This is unbelievably painful for me. I had hope that several months between when John and I broke up and when we actually parted ways might dull the hurt.

It hasn't.

I can't help crying, knowing that what I'm doing now is, more than anything, truly severing the last remaining bonds of the relationship we had before. I am unweaving the world that we've created for ourselves; I'm unraveling the tapestry of our life together to this point.

I can't imagine that I am the only person who has ever felt this kind of pain before, but I don't think that many people would understand how much this hurts. I would do anything, I think, to numb myself to what I'm feeling, but I have nothing that can help me. This is something that I am left to endure on my own.

I'm tired of kind words from people that reflect an inability to truly understand what I'm feeling. Yes, things will get better. Yes, in time this too shall pass. But it hurts right now.

I don't even want to try to be poetic about this. It doesn't feel like I'm losing a part of my soul or my heart ... it just fucking hurts. And I suppose what makes it worse is I still don't understand why I was the one worth leaving ...

Sitting around the house,
watching the sun trace shadows on the floor.
Searching for signs of life, but there's nobody home.