I walk around like a ghost in our home. Me and Woolly both. None of us can sleep and he toss and turn next to me and I toss and turn next to him. I feel very lonely. And so so sad. I cry all the time, everything sets me off. Your scent on the pillow, realising that we will never buy a Christmas tree again and know that its the best tree ever, remembering walks along the river laughing and planning for our life together, knowing that that life will never happen.
‘It will be better’, they say. ‘Its better this way’, you say. I know. I know the pain will fade into lightly coloured memories of us. But right now I dont want that. I want us. We were going to start a family, now we plan to break apart our lives.
I hurt knowing I did this. You tell me it wasnt just me and I know it wasnt. It was us. I still hurt knowing I couldnt keep the happiness of us alive. That my worries and my need for something carried all that doubt in. You say it was for the best and that it would have happened eventually, that you dont want to trap me, that all my worries are valid and you are probably right. It doesnt matter, I still hurt so much i cant sleep, eat or function.
This will be ok, we will be ok and one day we will look at our lives and be very happy at the decision taken but a piece of me will always wonder if we could have been just as happy together.
Letters to my family 