Much to my shame, I’m constantly on the verge of tears throughout the day. Still. It’s been over 2 weeks. By society’s standards I should be over him and under another by now. But no. That’s not me.
I sit at my desk and, with a will of their own, tears just plop out from my eyes. I don’t even cry, they just fall of their own accord. I dab at them, don’t smudge the mascara, give my nose a blow and have a good sniff. I don’t want people thinking “oh there goes the bipolar drama queen crying again”. In the past I’ve always been pro expression, you see.
But now, I try to go unnoticed. My face is blank and heavy. You couldn’t coax a smile if you tried. There is no smiling, only tears. But this heartache is a private matter, so I try to bottle my expressions up. Keep composed, be faultless with my work….. cute, clean robot…beep beep, zzzt, zzzt…..
I nearly phoned him tonight. Yes, I know, I know. I came this close to breaking my own No Contact Policy. I was about to dial when…… I started crying. Like proper crying, with hiccups and snot running over my upper lip. I am home, so I let myself cry good and proper. It was painful and raw and I hurt. But once it was over I felt cleansed. A release. A relief.
And the best part was, I no longer wanted to phone him.