December 15, 2024
8:01 PM

I don’t feel well. My body feels heavy, weighed down by indigestion, and my head throbs with a dull, relentless ache. I can’t tell if I’m sick in the physical sense or if this is something deeper — emotional, mental, spiritual. Perhaps it’s everything at once. I have no energy left; I feel utterly drained.

For the past four years, I’ve been carrying a hollow hope, a fragile thread that kept me tethered to something I didn’t want to let go of. But now, it’s over. The thread has snapped, leaving behind an emptiness I can’t even begin to describe. The wound, which I thought had healed with time, feels fresh again, as if it’s been ripped open.

I don’t know how to react. I thought I would cry, that I’d find some release in tears, but they don’t come. I’m dry, emotionally parched. I want to cry, but I can’t. The grief feels too old, too familiar, as if it has taken root inside me and become part of who I am.

The hardest part of all this, I think, is knowing that this moment was inevitable. I saw it coming — I knew it, deep down — but I ignored it. I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out differently. And now, here I am, stuck in the same place I was four years ago, feeling the same despair I felt when we first broke apart.

I know I’m repeating myself, replaying the same thoughts over and over again, but I don’t know how to escape this loop. It’s as if I’m trapped in a cycle, reliving the heartbreak endlessly. How do you move forward when every step feels like a circle, bringing you back to where you started?

I’m exhausted — physically, emotionally, mentally. The weight of this hollow hope has crushed me, and now that it’s gone, I don’t even have the strength to pick myself up. For the first time, I’m forced to face this void, and I don’t know how to fill it. I don’t know if I can fill it.

All I know is that I feel empty, and I don’t know where to go from here.