One day at a time

I torture myself. Every morning is like breaking up with each other all over again. I see him lying there looking to peaceful and it reminded me to all the mornings where I couldn’t stop myself laying on him irritatingly but affectionately and just felt completely overwhelmed that soon it would be gone. The mornings are the worst. Because during the day, I can be rational. When I’m with him in the evenings and all he’s still talking about is the stress of his work, where he is cold and blunt, it’s easier for me to understand why our splitting is the right decision. But in the mornings...oh to wake from slumber to find that soon I will no longer be in this bed, the wonderful mattress I went into my overdraft to purchase, his breathing...it’s too much, it’s all I can think about, I can only cry. I’ve cried every single day for the past two weeks and I just wonder if this feeling will ever go away. I don’t want this to be the end. 

But then, I felt this over the weekend but when I saw him the following day I felt okay. I felt sad but I didn’t want to carry on sobbing telling him we should keep trying. So I wonder if it’s another wave I need to ride and soon I hope they will become less frequent. 

Moving out will make it all seem real. I mean, how I feel right now is terribly real but perhaps it’ll really hit him too. 

I can’t think too far ahead, I’m just taking it one day at a time at the moment. Can’t think about weekends, my mind can’t get used to the idea of him not being a part of my plans...