I was talking to a friend the other day. I was telling him about some of my upcoming plans. And I ended up realising a sort of truth as I was talking to him.

And I realised as I was writing that this whole thing with my on/off person has left me with this massive wound. And I don’t know how to deal with it. So instead of addressing it, instead of really sitting with my feelings about it, I’ve been trying to avoid it. By making plans.

I thought that what I wanted was to cram my life with plans, with something sexy and distracting. I said that in the face of hurt and pain and rejection of that situation ending that what I wanted was to feel sexy again, to feel desired. To be chosen. I wanted a reminder that I can have those things again.

But even as I was typing out those messages I knew that it also felt like it was just a bit of gauze in the hopes of staunching some of the bleeding. Making plans doesn’t stop me from crying myself to sleep, it doesn’t stop me from missing him. From checking how long it’s been since he’s been online.

I think that my biggest problem is that in my head I created a version of the future in which I thought that when I moved out that maybe things would be different between me and him. That without the barrier of availability or whatever that stopped us from seeing each other more often now that whatever was between us would eventually evolve into something else.

But I know that that was just a one-sided fantasy. Or maybe not. I think he played a part in me building this (now incredibly painful) vision. I told him once that I wanted us to meet socially. To go for dog walks. Or to meet for a coffee. I told him that I wanted to spend time together with our clothes on. And he gave me the impression that that was possible. Eventually. When things with his work changed. Or whatever.

It doesn’t matter now. None of it was real. But I guess it has helped me to realise that I’m taking this all so badly because I’m grieving this stupid version of the future that I created in my head. That will never happen. That never existed. That never really ever contained a shred of reality. So in part I just feel a little bit stupid about the whole thing.

Stupid and sad and in pain.