I forgot he wasn't here for a minute. Wondered why he didn't come check on me while I was reading in the bath for a couple of hours, I lost track of time. And then I remembered that he wasn't going to check on me ever again and all the pain came crashing back over me. It comes in waves they said, the pain comes in waves. This is the worst that it's been since the night he left.
I was ok yesterday, thinking about moving on, moving into and then out of my mother's place. Having an apartment of my own, space of my own to do as I wished. A zillion plants, two cats, some fish, as many bookcases as I can fit. I was thinking about how this whole mess would turn out alright. I was going to be happy and secure and just me. And maybe someday there would even be a new somebody else and I would have flowers and cuddles.
The worst part is that nothing can fix it. There is no fixing anything. I can't ask him to be not gay, that's ridiculous and cruel. I can't stay with him. Hugs don't fix it. Ice cream doesn't fix it. Long baths, exercise, booze, distractions, chocolate, friends, family, inner strength. Nothing fixes it! Not even time can't really fix it. It just makes the pain drift away, only to sneak up on you again and throttle your heart.
Someday, further than I can see, the pain won't be as bad, the memories not as sharp. But someday is not today and the waves crest again.

It's weird to not be together anymore. Not just that he's deployed and will be gone for months on end. Not just that we're fighting and staying apart for a few days. Not together anymore. There will no longer be a head of red hair on the pillow next to mine. I'm not making him dinner when he comes home. I don't have to tell him if I'm going to be delayed at work or to pick up some milk on the way home. For almost eight years, he was a side-along of nearly every thought in my head. And now... he doesn't need to be.
I realized yesterday that if I so chose, I could sleep with anyone I wanted and it wouldn't be wrong. No one would be upset, in a betrayed partner sort of way at least. Not that I plan on going out and banging every dude I find. But I could and the only thing affected would be my elevated risk of STD's and my cats because I didn't come home to feed them. That hasn't been the case since I started having sex. It's bizarre.
After the first couple weeks, it isn't so painful to think that he'll never be mine again. I feel, at least right now, that I can get over this chapter of my life just fine and be a better wiser person for the experiences. It is entirely possible that hearing it from other people so much and shoving down my tearful despair so I can carry on my normal life is affecting my grieving process, but it no longer feels like something to lament. Like it's over and done and that was nice what shall we do now? Could be because we parted amicably and I don't have any real feeling of betrayal or hope that if only I had done X or Y that we could have been together. It is not my fault, I am not to blame for what happened between us. There is no way to fix the situation. I think that lends a sort of finality to everything. A shove to "get over it" in a sense.
Life is weird and more complicated than anyone led me to believe.