
You’re staring into infinite space, trying to grasp anything at all, floating into the future not knowing who you are, fading away and connected to no one and nothing. Am I really here? Do I exist? The answer was always yes, before him, during and after, and you will be okay.
He didn’t call, he didn’t text. It’s definitely over.
The moments between scrolling and eating, double-tapping and sleeping, all feel like reflexive nonsense. The only thing you are waiting for is for that one name to pop up on the screen to say:
But that isn’t going to happen. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. So you try to break the cycle, call a friend, do literally anything besides sit and wait for the message that isn’t going to come. It all feels forced, contrived, painfully boring and so clearly manicured to “help you move on” even though you don’t want to. But you should. You have to.
Those cycle-breaking chess moves slowly become what it means to live life without him. And living life without him is something so sad; not because you want to hold on, but because he was a symbol that you existed at all. That you mattered. That you were really here. He was a prism that your life was reflected through, flashing perfect little rainbows back to you and all over the walls of your tiny bedroom.
Without him, every step forward feels unsteady, and you feel like a fraud, like you’re standing in an astronaut suit, trying to join the ranks of decorated scientists on their way to the moon. Everyone else seems to understand this world, but you feel like a knock-off, a counterfeit human, a sham.
And now you’re staring into infinite space, trying to grasp anything at all, floating into the future not knowing who you are, fading away and connected to no one and nothing. Am I really here? Do I exist? The answer was always yes, before him, during and after, and you will be okay.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism |
Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box |
The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
![]() |
—
Photo credit: iStockPhoto.com
White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism
Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box
The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer