There is an ocean of silence between us… and I am drowning in it.
It’s painful, loving someone from afar. Watching them – from the outside. The once familiar elements of their life reduced to nothing more than occasional mentions in conversations and faces changing in photographs….. They exist to you now as nothing more than living proof that something can still hurt you … with no contact at all.
It’s difficult for me to imagine the rest of my life without you. But I suppose I don’t have to imagine it... I just have to live it
Being a nurse, I’m well trained in being careful with the language that I use. Words have power. They can keep someone calm. Or they can freak someone the fuck out when they’re in a bad place. They can keep someone at a distance. Or they can bring them close. It’s why I resisted when he suggested I call him by his first name. I was keeping him at a distance. But apparently my subconscious has been telling me this whole time that I shouldn’t do that.
Push too far into independence and we disconnect and hurt each other. Then in a longing for togetherness, we seek each other out; fumbling around for the warmth of the other. Push too far into intimacy and we get afraid of losing ourselves in it and head the other way. It is the ongoing interplay between independence and intimacy.