The confusion contributes to the sense of a lost mind. This weekend, the longing for company has been tangible enough that I spent the morning (and much of the afternoon) wrapped tight in a blanket, wrapped around a pillow in a desperate attempt to replicate touch and provide a sense of comfort. As temperatures now are already in the upper 20s and humid, all it did was make me uncomfortable with sweat. But at least it gave me something different to focus my mind on.
Yet at the same time that I was overheating due to the need to dispel the loneliness, I was also deciding to cut myself off again. Be strict. No more sending out texts and waiting hours or days for the reply then sending a message out and getting nothing back. No more Facebook, waiting and waiting and only serving to make the fact that there is no one even more obvious. Emails for work and nothing else.
And no more meeting up with the one person who has yet to fall away. I met her yesterday. I should have cancelled. I was in a panic. Crowds and heat and hopelessness. Catch sight of myself in a mirror. An ugly mess in baggy clothes, hair limp and lifeless, eyes limp and lifeless. Walking as if in two feet of water, slow and laboured. I walked into shops with her and tried so hard but ended up searching for and standing in a quiet corner or out on the street, trying to breath, trying not to cry. There’s no point in trying on any clothes. Time to stop buying new things. No point.
And then we sat and had a drink and I had nothing to say. I remember now how we used to giggle and chat and now I just listen and if I talk it’s negative and it’s boring and everything is permeated with fog and illness. And I think she must be counting down the minutes till I go and she can meet her boyfriend and smile and laugh with someone.
Later, I thought about texting her to apologise for the dullness, for being so boring and pointless. But then I remember that it makes it all about me again. So I don’t. I will just stop. Time to just stop.