And I don't know how to say it, because really, nobody wants to hear these things.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
I don't think he realizes that when I say I miss him, what it means is: that I am missing him to the point of physical pain. That I can hardly eat, because the anxiety is consuming me and gnawing a hole through my core. That the psychic ache is to the point of being unbearable. That a gray curtain has fallen over my mind half the time, and the rest of the time, my mind is scrambling and stumbling in frenetic circles of worry. That I am utterly exhausted and cannot sleep.