I'm at that post-break-up stage where I hate to be alone. Being alone means thinking and the majority of my thoughts right now aren't positive. I think I'm teetering close to the edge of depression, and it's a bit scary.
Nearly a year now since this all started. A YEAR. Months of uncertainty after a drunken situation at a wedding, finally leading to a date, a bit more uncertainty, and then nearly six months of . . . well, unusual happiness (by my standards). This time a year ago, if you'd told me any of that was going to happen . . . I would never have believed it. Perhaps it would have been better if I HADN'T gone to that wedding, the wedding which opened up this whole can of worms. I nearly didn't go. Even on the day of it, I was still swaying backwards and forwards as to whether I was going.
If I hadn't gone, I feel almost certain I wouldn't feel this badly now.
But then "what ifs" are fairly pointless. You can't change the past (if only you could).
The weird thing is, I've barely cried. I'm devastated but the tears won't really come. I've not managed to have a therapeutic bawl my eyes out moment yet. I think I'm possibly still in denial with the suddenness of it all. It'll hit me eventually, I'm sure.
In the meantime I'll continue to try and fill my free time and surround myself with friends, and try to accept that this is over.
It's so damn hard though. It really is.