Update on life- not bad, just J-less.

So it turns out that I’m doing ok. Ok despite J being in America, so far from me, despite me having to leave him earlier than both of us had wanted in the main hall- international and domestic flights don’t depart from the same place. I struggled through my first day or two with tears blotting every word I read, and an ache so strong in my throat and heart it physically hurt to breathe.

Then the difficulty of a doctor’s appointment to talk about scan results. I have cysts- benign, but they may come and go with my cycle. Said cycle which has been completely screwed with because every pill I’ve been on so far has made me bleed nearly constantly… The doctor was so lovely to me. He helped me understand that I was safe and not in danger of dying, that the cysts were probably causing me pain, but hopefully a new pill would stop it. He’s also sent my blood off for hormonal screening (I might have issues with them, sigh), and has recommended that I get a smear test done. I’ve been expecting that, to be honest. I think I’ll be able to do it, as long as it’s either my usual, female doctor, or the lovely nurse I had last time I had a pill check.

I’m trying to find a gym to join and I’m working an hour a day on my massage course stuff. I feel pretty pleased that I’m managing so well. My best friend had her second hen do this weekend- it was so so good to catch up with her!!!

All in all, life isn’t bad. But as long as J is not in my bed each night, as long as I don’t feel him breathe beside me, as long as I can’t kiss him, grab his hand or share a joke with him… It’s not amazing.

Still, I can fix that.


Fastest car

Three weeks zoomed by far too quickly.

He was even calmer, happier, more present with me than before. He’s enjoying getting fit at the gym, he has been helping me build muscle too. Three weeks had me believing that one day, I could shove away my own monster and throw him down into the pit where he belongs.

The younger versions of me in my head have been quite curious. Shy at first, then bold. We all unite into a common goal- get close to him. Show him what you feel.

As always, I’m never rushed. I tease him by standing there naked, but he’s always the gentleman. I think he can tell when fourteen or fifteen year old me peeks through, and he can tell when I need comfort. I feel more whole and less fragmented when I’m with him. He must have cut himself a couple of times, putting the mirror of me back together, but he’s never complained.

Never again am I doing another year apart from him. I reach for who I was when I’m lying next to him. He helps me reach.