Inspired by real life events.
Another one of those useless days. I feel terrible and I am very much looking forward to leaving soon. I just want to go home. If she gives me anymore of her crap, I won’t guarantee anything today. I stand at my desk and take care of the special task that my colleague has imposed on me. The documents are needed next door and I should hurry up, they said. I put everything together and try to breathe the pain away.
The last few weeks have been really terrible. I miss you so much. Even if that sounds super theatrical and I’m not like that, I still wonder how I’m going to live without you. There’s a hole inside of me. We haven’t finished yet. My thoughts constantly revolve around you, around us, our ending and I just can’t get you out of my skin. What you have awakened in me now simply belongs to me and can never again be closed away like that, but I only ever wanted to experience that with you. You were perfect. Or not. It was the shortest walk in the history of mankind. The feeling was indescribable when you gave me your key to the apartment, the chip.
My eyes are filling with tears. I try to read the documents through them. but I can’t. A tear falls on the folder in front of me and I put down the stack. I try to calm down. “Shit.” I take a deep breath in and out. Not here. Crying in the cave pit wouldn’t be wise. I’m not in the mood for stupid sympathy expressions or pseudo-babble to make fun of you afterwards. None of their business. I’ll wipe this tear from my cheek and try to put you out of my mind again. I do it all the time. I never thought you would do this to us, I could have been so wrong about you. You created a beautiful illusion and I believed in it. We had so many formative moments and I’ll never be the same again. You let me fly. You took away all the pain I felt, comforted me when I needed you and healed things in me for which I had no courage before. You have been an important person and I will never forget you…never…will always be grateful for all the good and beautiful things we had. Without you I would never have known such a connection. I even have to smile at the thought of how it was in the beginning… How you cared for me, how many hours of conversations we had, how often I cried with you and only then I realized what burdened my soul. The rules we had set for ourselves, big and small. How you made it clear that without my help no dominance was possible, because in truth, I had the power. But how you then consistently punished my failure to keep the agreements. How I had to send you screenshots of my wishes, how you chose what I should order, and how days later I showed you everything via video chat and you decided what you liked best about me and what could stay. I have to think of the daily reports you asked for, the calorie counts, the sports and what the scales showed. I got your permission and praise and always had a certain routine with you. For others, that would certainly sound uncomfortable and abusive. For me, it was the epitome of security and safety. What else could happen to me? I was under your protection. Protected and never alone. We shared joys and sorrows. After a hard day at the office, you once fell asleep on the phone and I often gave up a session because I noticed how exhausted you were. Often you also let me come to you because you wanted to sleep next to me. I massaged you and listened to you, to what stress you were exposed to during the day or just gave you a blowjob to relax you. We laughed so much together, and I could cry with you and didn’t have to be strong anymore. With your pragmatic way you showed me ways out of issues that I thought I had lost and I could entrust my worries and needs to you – all of them, without exception, never embarrassed. You knew how to hold me, how to keep me safe and secure… until now. I am so afraid to think about what your motives might have been to act in such a way that I just push the subject away, far back, in my heart.
There’s a knock at the open door. My colleague is showing impatience. “Hanna, please. I need the documents.” I quickly swallow the lump, down my throat and answer, without turning around: “I’ll hand them right in. Give me five minutes.” She rolls her eyes and I know her well enough to hear it in her voice, besides, we’ve been working together long enough now. She always has to act up. “Five minutes, Hanna.” “Yes.” Now I roll my eyes. I catch myself and double-check everything I’ve collected so far. I rub again under my eyes as a precaution in case the tears stained my makeup. Then I grab the stack of folders, take a deep breath and bring them into the conference room. I open the door with a big swing. Her eyes are glued on me. You look at me surprised. That can’t be true. You’re the super mega important appointment, the reason the office has been upside down for days? And what is wrong with me?
Can the floor please open up and swallow me? While I put the documents on the sideboard and nod to my boss, I have the feeling that my heart is about to stop. That this unspeakable pain will make me shatter into a thousand pieces or at least faint. I lower my eyes, say goodbye quickly and close the door from the outside. For a little moment I lean against it and try, with my eyes closed, to concentrate simply on breathing. I feel sick. I can feel saliva collecting in my mouth and just manage to sprint into the bathroom with my hand held out. I kneel in front of the toilet bowl and cry unrestrainedly afterwards. I feel miserable. I feel small and lost. Everything that I haven’t let out for weeks is now taking up space and I don’t struggle anymore. I am finished. I’m really done. You’ve finished me. Life wasn’t easy before, either. I always try to stay positive in the face of all adversity, to enjoy the little things and celebrate beautiful moments. But I’ve never felt what happened to me with you…