Z and I have parted ways, this time for good. The sense of finality attached to this break-up is both sad but liberating. No more struggle to make things work; no more wondering if this is how things should be. We aren't together for good reasons, but damn if it doesn't hurt.
For at least a while, and potentially indefinitely, the man I've shared my life with for the past two years is someone who feels light years away. Not talking to him hurts because I relied on him so much to get by. It is a scary thought, to rely on anyone like that, or sometimes at all, but I didn't mind because he was there and (to my knowledge) he was okay with it. And, had he chosen to do so as much as I did, I would have listened to him, too. I feel like we supported each other, and I hope he felt as uplifted by me as I did by him.
So, for all that to be gone, I've experienced a bit of an emotional shock. I have to learn to get by *alone* this time. No one to say good morning/night to every day; no one to really talk to about my less than stellar test grade today. It's all gone.
In the meantime, I've tried to create a new Allen, one that can handle this stress, one that feels sexy, one that is confident. I'm looking for a new identity to keep me occupied for a while. However, there's a slight snag in the 'new identity' plan: the motives may not be pure. I think I want a new identity because I am, in varying ways, in pain. Pain from loss, from emptiness, and from loneliness. Pain from not really knowing what my identity is anymore.
I wonder if I got to a point where I did lose myself in my relationship. Where was I? The 'Allen' that I was for the past two years does not feel like the 'Allen' I am now, and it's only been two weeks since the break up. I'm endeavoring to re-find out who I am. Again. I'd love to know before I find another love so I can always keep myself around.
I want to rediscover things about myself. I want to paint again. I want to get back in touch with my own private and sensual sexuality. I don't want to feel disconnected. Z never did any of those things to me, nor did he force me to change or 'lose' myself. It was something I did, on my own. Somewhere along the way, I got lost.
Now, then, I'm finding out who I am. I am trying to live organically. I am making new manifestos and preparing myself for whatever the hell is ahead. I'm finding the strength to handle my day-to-day and keep myself on track.
To wrap things up, here's a little bit of introspection I did the other day:
Maybe the reason you want so hard to change things or make a new identity for yourself is because you're not sure you have one anymore. Losing a relationship meant losing a bit of yourself. You're struggling to pick up whatever pieces you can. You're lost.
Yet, you don't need the glasses. You don't need to have a bunch of sex. You need to discover you and become friends with him again. Become whole. You can do this.
Love, Me.
