Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER
Despite weeks of both sad pleading and angry protestations from the man I loved for the past six years, I am leaving. To deflect blame in this situation would be easy, and whilst potentially offering some level of bleak satisfaction, I find smug righteousness ultimately personally diminishing. Now is not the time for reflection on what has been. Quite simply, there is no longer sufficient space between us to allow enough air to keep the flames of intimacy and solitude in balance.
For months I’ve been engaged in an internal bloody mess of a wrestling match, lurching from one extreme emotion to another in an exhausting yet futile attempt to separate the “I” from the “we”. Driven by a deep, urgent need to disentangle myself, I am stifled now by what once provided fulfilment.
With no clear sense of who I am, I am in a state of constant annoyance. Ask me to tell you about myself, and after much umming and ahhing, I’ll awkwardly produce assorted adjectives I’ve heard others use to describe me, list a few mundane accomplishments; a muddled resume of sorts.
In fact, I realise I’m brimming over with an anger, seeping through the cracks, becoming entirely and uncomfortably visible. What I once thought of as solid ground, an impermeable sense of self, has crumbled beneath me. I’m stamping my feet so heartily, I’ve broken it from within.
Now, amidst the roaring in my ears, how do I hear myself?