No More GeekBoy

For those of you who know me personally, this will come as no surprise. GeekBoy is still GeekBoy, but he is my GeekBoy no more. There is some element of surprise to it, but not it did not come as a total shock. I had not seen him since the beginning of December, and hadn't spoken to him or had any communication from him in two weeks.

Of course, that's not to say that it hasn't been a massive emotional blow to me. I've had very little to eat this week, and sleeping has been difficult. I know that none of it was my fault and that there was nothing I could do to change what happened. I don't even feel like I've been dumped, but rather that we've split up.

I miss him mightily, and perhaps I always will. I wish him love and happiness. I would have liked to be the person he found that with, but I have no control over that.

I was watching Bones last night and one of the characters said something that hit home for me. He said that he was suffering from grief and that the only cure for grief is time. That rings very true for me. The first half of the week was very difficult for me. The second half has gotten easier. It's a relief. I still struggle to find any interest in eating. Food tastes like ashes and my stomach rebels at the thought of eating. Sleep has been difficult as well. My mind is so obsessed with thoughts of GeekBoy that I have to exhaust myself before I can go to sleep. Watching TV doesn't use enough brain power, so nearly the only thing I've been able to do is read.

My knitting group has been a godsend. I don't know what I would do without them. They offered to break his kneecaps for me. They were righteously indignant on my behalf. They let me know that I am well-loved, well cared for, and have an amazing support system. I don't know what I have done to merit such support and love, but I count myself truly blessed.

In the meantime, I move on. I work. I read. I inch toward happiness again. I work on finding my single heart, my pleasure in my own company. I grieve. I wait for time to pass, for the heartsickness to fade. I am strong, and I will make it through this.