Let’s get this blog over and done with shall we? I will try not to cry as I type it at my desk, but it’s something that has been affecting me deeply, so it’s only fair I try and articulate this in words for you.
I am missing Dan. Those 4 words are so simple, but for me they are so profound. On Dictionary.com ‘missing’ is
Not present; absent.
Lost: a missing person
All of which are true, he is not with me nor I him, so we are therefore absent from each other. I feel lost, I am staying at my parents for most of the week, but with Liz and Jim for at least one night, so I have no personal objects around me, other than those I carry with me, and for those people that have seen my parents’ house they will know what I mean when I say – chaos. And I really feel that I am lacking, in his conversation, his laughter, the whole kit and caboodle. I am wanting to be with him, desperately.
We were having a text conversation yesterday, that moved onto MSN, that moved into epic emails – but I just want to hear him. Having said that, talking on the phone is useless, I keep forgetting things I want to say to him, I am enjoying hearing his voice so much. I’d be happy sitting there listening to silence, knowing that our ears were connected through the wires would be enough, albeit expensive.
I have photos of him on my computer, on my desk, on my phone, Mum and Dad have photos of us in the house, as do Liz, but I am worried I can’t remember what he looks like. That sounds stupid, I can see what he looks like, but when I close my eyes – he’s not automatically behind them any more.
I am feeling listless at work today too, I have things to do, and have been very busy this morning but I really am struggling to get going. There won’t be anyone at the end of the day to talk about what I have done, I can’t plan for tomorrow, I am just hanging on for the next 42 days until I can leave. Which isn’t fair on the people here that I am trying to catch up with before I go, they won’t get the best of me, as I will be disjointed thinking about DG.
It feels that the next month and a bit is turning into one long farewell (is that any surprise), and for someone who hates them, it is going to be a form of torture that I will be so happy when it’s over and done with. I sound ungrateful and I don’t mean to be, it’s not very Eckhart Tolle; but I wish it was over and done with, all the tears that are going to come now passed and I am sat on a plane getting excited that within a day I’ll be seeing him.
Oh woe is me. I am sorry I am in a funk at the minute, I am ok really.