Last night I felt uplifted, I jammed some old school rock, watched tv with my family, ate a healthy dinner, hydrated and felt clear headed after a day of fun filled bingeing and purging. For a moment I allowed myself to smile and laugh but it felt so forged, as though I was cheating on my grief.
The boyfriend and I had this… game that we played, we bought it a couple of months into the relationship and it became the activity that was central to our hanging out. A ritual of some sort. We even rushed all other activities when we hung out, even sex just so we could rush and indulge in the thing that we shared this mutual love for, we could talk for hours, never checked our phones, exchanged banter, he would be naked and I wrapped in a sheet, it was incredibly intimate and fun. He was my best friend and boyfriend at the same time.
Last night I asked him what he did with the.. game and he told me that he sold it just before he left and once again, I was hit in the face with the abrupt finality of it all. I swear I heard a gavel strike some hard wood, a door slamming shut and my stomach sank, hands weightless. I cried until my head was pounding and drifted off to sleep.