My Armour Fails at Night

I have developed an excellent set of armour. It keeps the sadness from getting to me, and I can go about my day like a normal person. Part of my armour is keeping myself busy, and another part is just not thinking too much about you, and us. My armour is very effective during the day.

But when I climb in bed and turn out the light, my armour instantly dissolves and the sadness hits me. It's uncanny how practically instantaneous it is. One minute I'm fine, setting the alarm on my phone and grabbing my sleeping mask, then I turn out the light, roll over, and I'm depressed. I don't always cry, but I always get sad.

I also get angry, at the circumstances that have taken us apart. I try not to let myself ponder what ifs, but lying in my bed in the dark they poke at the edge of my brain. What if I was American? What if you were Canadian? What if you lived in Washington or Oregon instead of Georgia? What if I only had a couple months instead of a couple years of school left? What if? What if? What if? I think about the next two or three years of school and I get angry, and tired.

I also get hit with memories of the time we've had together, which make me both happy and sad. I'd list a few now, but I know that wouldn't be productive cause it'd just make me cry. Let me just say that there are a lot of them and I'm so happy to have them.

I miss you so much. I keep looking for you on MSN and online, wanting to have a conversation with you. I get the urge to text you so much but I always feel like I'm going to be interrupting you or bugging you. I miss the sound of your voice but I don't want to call in case you can't talk, because I know hearing your voice for a second and having to hang up because you're busy will probably just make me more sad. I don't want to be the whiny, nagging girl who you avoid.

I'm working really hard at not being bitter at the universe/God, but it's really hard not to be right now.

I'm sorry about all these whiny, depressing blog entries, but this is what I do when I need to talk my feelings, because I know if I tried to say these things out loud to someone, I'd just dissolve into a useless puddle of tears. I'm not going about my days in a cloud of depression, but sometimes I just need to say these things, even if I'm just typing them on a blog that only you read.

I hope you're doing as well as, or better than, I am with all this.

Bed is Scary

I'm still up at 1:11am even though I have to be up at 8 tomorrow morning. Why am I up? Have I been sorting and putting away my stuff or being otherwise productive? No, I've been reading someone's blog for the last hour.

Bed isn't scary because there might be monsters or rapists under it. There isn't even an under-the-bed for something to be lurking in. Bed is scary because I know when I go to bed the loneliness will hit me like a tsunami crashing into me and crushing me under the huge weight of my sadness. There won't be any wonderful person for me to cuddle with, and no one will kiss me in the dark, wish me good night, and tell me they love me, leaving me with a sense of contentment and happiness and safety before I drift off to sleep.

I know myself, and I know that as soon as I get into bed and snuggle my pillow instead of you, and say goodnight to the teddy bear you gave me instead of you, and maybe even (depending on how pathetic I'm feeling at that moment in time), whisper "I love you" to you even though you're not there, I'll dissolve into tears which I'll stifle in a pillow because I don't want to wake up Dad and Ruth with my crying and make them pity my sadness. I'll start to try to space out my nose-blowings because I'll be worried that if I blow it too often, they'll automatically know that I'm crying even if they can't hear me doing it.

I imagine you're asleep right now, after having driven as far as you could. I wish I knew where you were, although I don't know why. Knowing where you are won't change the fact that I both miss you an incredible amount, and hate life and uncontrollable circumstances for separating us, maybe for good, on the day of our four year anniversary.

I'm grateful that we got the time that we did, but now that I've had a taste of what it's like to not only live in the same city but also in the same room as you, I'm afraid I'm terribly spoiled.

The thought of us not working out, if we do grow apart and find we're better off completely breaking up, makes me feel so tired. I don't want to start dating again. I don't want to have to work my way through the assholes and weirdos and Ed Hardy-wearers of the world to try to find another person who makes me as happy as you do. I've never met a boyfriend through a random encounter. I don't know how to flirt with people I don't know. It makes me anxious.

I alternate between intense sadness and intense rage. The rage is because I'm so angry at life for being shitty to us like this. I want to fly apart and break things and scream, but I'm not sure if that will make me feel any better, and then I'd have broken shit to clean up.

I've run out of things to say right now, so I guess I'll go be brave and get in bed.

I miss you.