Eventually it will be okay...

...but eventually may never come.


I wish to preface this a bit:

I love my ...other half (words lack the depth I seek here).. more than.. ..shit. All the words (x∞ +1). My undoing was in spite of his valiant efforts, never, ever, a result of them.

Need

We had moved in together. Too soon, but there was little choice. I was without my son, my friends, and any shred of my personal space, was long gone. I was unbelievably alone and yet never by myself. There was no space, aside from my body, that was truly mine. 

Everything in my life, everything I loved and cared about, was ultimately under someone else's control. I am was a recovered cutter and bulimic/anorexic. Bulimia, anorexia, cutting are all about one thing: control. I perceived none, so I made some. 

I used that control to destroy what I hated, what kept letting me down, that which was filled with nothing but failure, Me. 

...............................

I hate this post. I hate this piece.