2p Just when you think you can’t sink any lower, life hits you again and plunges you deeper down that rabbit hole.
Edward and I fought hard on Friday night. It was a wonderful day and a magical evening. We met another long distance couple and shared our stories over fine wine, myself included. It just felt right.
The argument started at dinner afterward. There is a melancholy for me when I think about us. He gave up. He gave up on me. He gave up on our fairytale, our epic adventure. And I paid for it, in every way.
But here we sit, engaged – because I chose to make it happen for us, not him. And that hurts. Terribly.
I let that out over dinner, and he didn’t like it. He got mad, and we fought hard. I got broken.
Today has been the first day I have been able to write since. He threw me twice, and I smacked my head really hard – once outside on the ground, and once inside on the bathroom door jam. Either or both together compounded – I have concussion symptoms. It literally hurts to think. I cannot do a damn thing.
For the first time in our relationship, I cannot do a damn thing to help myself or take care of myself. It’s a hard place for him to be, especially with all that is happening with the company right now. And I want to sweep in and rescue him, but I can hardly focus my eyes on this page.