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33. Singing the blues

The weeks after Blue Eyes leaves are grim. Even when you know deep down you’re doing the right thing, the sudden shock of losing an intimacy you’d come to rely on is tough. Mornings that once luxuriated in coffee and cuddles are now chilly, brisk affairs. I’m early for work every day with a neat little packed lunch and it breaks my fucking heart.

There’s only one way I know of getting over a break up and that’s by being frantically busy to the point of near-collapse at all times. I organise endless dinners and drinks with old work colleagues and friends. I agree to every extra job/meeting/responsibility at work until I’m drowning in my to-do list, blinking wearily at my laptop long after my colleagues have left the building. I run and run and run at the gym until I can barely walk. My life is so full it’s falling apart at the seams.

I miss her terribly. So many times I come within a whisker of calling her up and begging her to take me back. I moon over old photos of us, giggle at the silly things she says on Facebook, wonder where she is and what she’s doing. I imagine her meeting someone else, unfolding her heart to her, turning those big, blue pools of love onto another woman and it hurts so much I can’t stand it.

Another problem: I can’t write. I sit down at my laptop, prepped, with coffee and itchy fingers and…nada. Soon I’m doing everything I can to avoid sitting down at my empty screen: I deep clean the fridge; make curries from scratch; even iron my bloody pillow cases. I feel completely stoppered by sadness.

A close friend of mine insists on coming over.

“I’m mad at you” she says.


“Because you’re not talking to anyone and it’s not good. You have to talk to someone.”

“Yeah” I say sadly.

How can I write about this, or talk about it when I can’t even think about it? Every time I do, even for a moment, I can feel the tears bubbling up in my throat. I pretend to everyone that I’m fine – fine! totally made the right decision! look at these pristine pillow cases!  – but it still hurts like hell.

The fact is, there were reasons we broke up and nothing’s changed. I could see not just bumps in the road ahead but chasms and craters. We could have limped on, wringing every last drop of happiness and goodwill from our relationship but we’d only end up more hurt in the long run. Sometimes you need to cut your losses; take the hit.

None of that changes the fact that I still love her and want her and wish she was in my life. I’m sure that eventually it will get easier: I’ll patch up my battered heart, get a grip, tough it out, find someone new. But until it does I’ve got a Korma in the oven, cupboards to clean and a cardio class at 5. I’ll see you on the other side.

Photo by Chris Barbalis on Unsplash

This entry was posted in: lesbian

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