That’s how I feel about that. I gave her a window. No not even a door. Just a window of opportunity. My heart is aching and my head pounding. For many weeks now my thoughts have been consumed. I can’t find the words to scream or the tears to cry.
I’ve experienced heartbreak before. It’s sharp. Sudden. Overwhelming. Constant.
This is not heartbreak. I feel calm. Maybe numb. No lyrics sing my heart. No book has told me this story. No person has suggested how this should feel.
I can’t hold on and I can’t let go. I have no concept. My brain strains to put words on it. I shake trying to feel something. Do I care? Disappointment isn’t the right word.
To be disappointed I’d have to have expectations. I didn’t know what I wanted. Well, actually I’m a writer. I wanted the story. I never expected to attach myself to it. I was always on the outside looking in. Level headed. I didn’t care which way the story went. I didn’t let myself care who she was, or why she gave me up. I just knew I needed to know.
I never. Ever. Ever thought she wouldn’t tell me.