I know that’s what people say—you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, you’ll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him. – Betty Smith
Normally, when I, or my friends, talk about recovery, its about rest or about a lighter training session, less intensive, to help the body recover from what stupid physical thing you’ve tried to do. This time, its recovery of a different type.
Today, or maybe even over the weekend, the shock has worn off a bit. I thought I was coping ok, but knowing that sooner or later, the second wave of pain and grief would hit. If I’m busy or my mind is occupied (yoga tonight proving perfect example – a whole hour NOT thinking about him!), I’m relatively alright. Today though, has been tough. Shock has, like I said, worn off and I am left feeling empty and like bawling my eyes out. One of the girls at work reminded me that it’s fine to cry and that if I need to bawl then I should. Our staff toilet has been renamed the ‘consulting room’ many times before for such reasons. I managed to keep the tears at bay. I am being brutally honest when people ask me how I am. Talking is therapy right?
I am at the point of really missing him. The morning text, the nanite text, the stupid little life observation text, the hugs, the feeling of being at one with the world knowing someone has your back, the love, the cheek, the future plans. Recalling and comparing notes. All of it. Missing it and him. Knowing it won’t be the same again. The wondering what he’s doing. Everything going through my mind in no real order.
All this while also wishing he was hurting as much, when in reality, he’s probably feeling a hell of a lot better! Anger and upset rolled into one.
It’s all very raw. And I’m trying desperately to keep myself busy, plan things for myself and figure out what it is I am actually going to do, while wondering if I am actually capable of achieving some of these things.
The quote at the top of this blog – I know I will feel happy again at some point, I’m sure of it, I’ve seen it with friends who have gone through it and come out the other side. This recovery is hard. Harder than physical recovery from a race or a training session. I don’t think I will ever properly ‘get over it’. It isn’t my first broken heart of sorts. The last left scars. And yes there are similarities. But life goes on and there will be light at the end of the tunnel, but today, I can’t see it and today I want to cry.
The Jilted Triathlete 