049

I don't know what to write, but I know I need to.

Over the past week or so I've realized that crying doesn't have the same calming effect it used to have on me.  In college I cried a lot--more than the average person.  I cried because it made me feel better, because if I cried I could get all my feelings out.  Now, I've stopped crying.  Crying just leaves me face blotchy, my nose runny, and my eyes bloodshot.  Now, crying makes me feel weak--like I can't hold it together.  I don't like feeling out of control, especially when it comes to my emotions.

But even holding back the tears doesn't change the lump in my throat that never seems to fully subside.  It doesn't change the ache in my chest that keeps coming back.  And it brings on more headaches from holding everything in.

I've had to tell about a dozen people at work--all at separate times--about the break-up, and the worst moment always comes when they ask: "Why?"  And I try to explain what he's told me, and my outlook on it, but my subconscious always has to have her two cents and say, "Yes, Emily, please tell us: why?"  And I don't know the answer.  I can flap my gums over how much freedom he needs, but when it comes down to it, I can't understand why two people, who over the course of a seven-month relationship never fought and claim to love each other, are no longer together.  I can say that I understand, but I don't think I ever really will.