A Shell

Nothing makes me feel more worthless than losing the one person who made the world feel even remotely manageable. It’s like the minute the relationship ended, every horrible belief I have about myself came crashing down all at once.

I feel like dead weight.

Like I’ve been holding her back from a better life.

Like she’ll finally be able to breathe now that I’m not her husband.

And the part that destroys me is that everything in me wants to beg her to stay. I want to fall apart and plead and tell her I can’t do this without her. But I won’t, because I love her too much to trap her in something she doesn’t want anymore.

So instead I’m sitting in the wreckage, trying to figure out how to exist when the one person who made life feel survivable isn’t in my life the same way anymore. I don’t know how to build anything from this. I don’t even know how to want to.

I feel like a shell.

And I’ve always felt like a shell.

Like I don’t have the desire to want anything out of life.

Like I’m just living to die.

The reality is, I know we grew in different directions. It just doesn’t stop the unbelievably awful amount of pain I feel.

I want to be a good person. I want to be worth it to someone.

Life adding. But I don’t know if I ever will know how to be.