But I'd Do It All Again
I've never said that after a break up before.
We ended our romance last night. Far and away the most painful thing I've ever experienced. I've never loved that way before; I've never been loved that way before. And because of the contingency that tore us apart, I can't really channel my pain and sorrow into righteous indignation - there will be no "anger" phase.
God in heaven, last night was awful.
We both cried....no...we both sobbed uncontrollably in each other's arms. Just about anything we said only made the other cry that much harder. We did stop long enough to have break-up sex, which, by the way, was the hottest sex of my life. But then, that makes sense - I've never slept with someone as amazing in bed as he, and I think the knowledge that it was our last moment together only enhanced the intensity.
We fell asleep in each other's arms, for the last time, and woke up together this morning, also for the last time. Getting dressed for work and leaving him was even harder than I imagined it could be. Many many more tears were shed by both of us. I tried wishing him a happy birthday (it's the 19th), and that only made things worse.
It's the little things that I'm going to miss most of all - the way he'd grab my hand under the table when no one was looking...the stolen kisses when everyone's backs were turned, etc. Hardest of all, though, will be the fact that there won't be any more daily e-mails from him. For the breadth of our relationship, that was the thing I loved the most - going home, checking me e-mail, and knowing that I'd see his name and the same subject line we've used for the entire length of our relationship, sitting in my box waiting for me.
As an aside: I realize that some of you have almost no idea what the hell I'm talking about right now...there are reasons for that. If you really want details, the e-mail link on this page works.
As a second aside: There is one amazing advantage to working in an office full of women. They all were very sympathetic to me this morning, gave me all the chocolate they could find, then went out and bought more chocolate for me. Actually, the first of them to arrive this morning looked at me and said, "Oh God - you're drinking a mocha and it's not Friday! What's wrong?!"
I didn't cry at work, though I really wanted to. I didn't cry on the bus home, even though I sorta wanted to (I still think tears on public transit are icky). But as soon as I closed the door to my apartment behind me, I collapsed. I think everything had just been building up all day, and once I was safe in my sanctuary, it opened the floodgates. I was immobile on the floor, clutching my blanket, sobbing and screaming in my sorrow. Full-throated, gutteral, raw.
My heart is quite decidedly broken. I know there will always be a place in my heart for him. I also know that, despite the pain of the past 24 hours, I would do it all again. Every kiss, and every mistake. Each and every moment I shared with him, I would repeat.
He will never be able to walk by Ben's Noodles and Rice (my favorite Thai place) without thinking of me. I'll never be able to look at a crochet hook or a ball of white yarn without thinking of him (he tried teaching me to crochet).
And now, I have to attempt to clean myself up and get through rehearsal, with fucked up sinuses and a raw throat. Spending most of the past day in tears or near tears will do that to your voice. Never mind the fact that I won't really be able to focus tonight.
I know that some of you are thinking that I'm just being a drama queen. Some of you may even go so far as to say so. Maybe later, I will be able to hear that. I might even be willing to agree. For now, though, fuck off. There are actually some advantages to the fact that I'm feeling this pain. Advantages that don't involve ODing on chocolate. Perhaps I will explain later. Right now, I have to pull myself together for rehearsal. | 
