Erosion

 I can’t remember how I used to survive in this house. It’s mid October and I’m already wearing a t shirt, long sleeved and long armed pyjamas and a dressing gown to bed. I’ve got the electric blanket on full and I’m still frozen!

I’m at my parent’s house, and will be until Tuesday. It’s a very welcome break, what with everything that’s being going on at the other home. Above all it’s great to see my family, but I’m also really enjoying some social interaction that isn’t fraught with awkwardness and over sensitivity. The over sensitivity with Him is all me, by the way. 

He texted me to say goodnight, and I texted back, but there was no ‘I love you to bits’ like there normally is. I was talking to Mum about loving him, this evening. I said that I love him, but not in the same way I used to. I’m still deeply in love with the old him, but he isn’t him anymore, so how can I love him? I can’t fall in love all over again, and if I did, I certainly couldn’t do it with someone this cold and, well, unresponsive. 

Mum thinks he might be interested in someone else. I’ve entertained that thought, but after seeing how he reacted to me when I suspected it last time, I can’t be bothered to pry. It would only hurt me intensely – I’d rather things just fizzle out than find him with someone else. Of course this is totally unjustified, as I want other people. If he was lusting over as many people as I do, I wouldn’t mind, but if it’s just one girl I’ll be upset and angry. Not devastated, as I’ve let the old Him go now, but it will still hurt that I wasn’t good enough.

I don’t believe this is the case at all, though. It’s just a possibility. I trust him not to lie to me about that. Anyway, I’ve decided that the thing to do is just wait this out. I can’t throw this away based on just 3 months of coldness – I have to wait and see if our argument last week changes things. If it means I get the old Him back, then that’s better than any other situation I can think of. I have to keep trying to get my man, the one I fell so hard in love with and who gave me electric shocks up my ribs every time he touched me. I loved those naps with my head on his strong chest, my hands curled inside his and his perfectly sculpted legs wrapped around mine. I’d never felt so wanted. I’m in disbelief that it could change so much in only one year.

That was the first time I ‘fell’ in love, and I can definitely see why they use that word. With my ex, who I was with for over four years, I was sort of pulled in love. I agreed that I loved him back when I wasn’t sure, and then I realised a few months later that I’d be broken without him. I did break without him, in a messy, embarrassing way, but then I pulled myself together and was fine. With Him, I fell in love hard and fast, not 3 months after we first met. We both fell in love in the same week, but couldn’t admit it until the next. Now I’ve not so much been broken by him, but eroded. Once the erosion got enough, I started building myself back up, in silence. I’m strong enough now that he can keep trying to erode me, but I’ve shielded myself. The choice now is whether to stay and build a shield for the both of us together, or walk if he just keeps on being abrasive.

I think I could sum up our relationship with one photo of his running shoes, that were once white and reflective, but now frayed and grey.

Right now I’m half looking forward to and half worrying about a party I’m going to tomorrow. ‘Him back home’ will be there, and I shouldn’t give a rat’s ass about it, but I’m already worrying about how I’ll look. Him back home is so very wrong for me, but I suppose that’s the appeal. If I think about him, I can transport myself to an alternate reality.