There are 14 empty wine bottles lined up. One for every day since I left my boyfriend. They are a sad reminder that the last two weeks have been the longest of my life. Every night I have cried myself to sleep in the darkness, in the oblivion that alcohol provides to my torn soul. There is no escape from the wrenching pain of separation. No amount of starving or puking will stop me from being reminded that he did not love me enough. He did not love me enough to fight for us, to hold onto me, to stop me from leaving, to run after me, to come back for me. I am gone and he is missing from me. I am breaking down. No amount of love and support from my family and friends can stop the tirade of ED. It is all that fills the emptiness. It sings to me in the long, dark nights. It reminds me that I am not alone even though I am and the false comfort that it gives is all that matters right now. I devote myself to it with passion because it eases my broken heart when there is nothing else.
I have waited every day with bated breath for word from him. I have waited for him to come for me with arms open and a heart full of regret. He has not come. He never will. But, I wait. I keep waiting. Me, and my bottles of wine. Waiting for a man who doesn’t love me. Even though I know I deserve so much more. “The heart wants what it wants”.
In one of his last messages he asked me if I was eating. He told me that it pains him to know that I am not and that he is the cause of it. He is pained by causing me hurt. He is not pained that he has lost me. I cannot tell him that somehow he has lost sight of what really matters. Because I don’t matter. And I cannot live with that.
Every day without him is emptier than the one before. ‘Do not sacrifice what you want most for what you want now.’ What if he is one and the same?