withdrawal in Portrait of a....

They just come. The tears. I can't stop them and the sound of my own crying makes me sad.

Tonight I went with some friends to the theatre. Some shitty play, but i was grateful for the distraction. even though it was at a theatre, right next to the theatre I went to with him. I took him to Don Giovanni, his first opera.

My flat, my city is tainted by him. Full of memories. The city doesn't even look beautiful now. Or rather, it's beauty is sort of cloaked in this pain I have.

I'm just going through the motions. Filling the hours. Working, teaching piano lessons and then trying to find any distraction. But, then it's home and alone and crying. I don't even want to cry anymore. I hate this, but it's impossible not to. I barely get in the door and the sobs come. Sometimes it's before I even get in the door, as i'm walking up the stairs, or even up the hill.

It's been less than a week, but it feels like an eternity and it feels like I'll never get over it. I suppose I will one day, but when? And how?

What's so hard, is that I was single for a long time. And then I finally met someone and I allowed myself to fall in love so freely, with abandon. I allowed myself to be so, so happy. And now i'm just crushed.

I haven't heard from him since Friday. I almost want him to contact me. But, I know that it won't be good and I mustn't contact him. But, i'm in withdrawal. Like an addict: painful, sweaty, crawling the walls withdrawal.