The earth is wet. Rain sliding down the windows of my hotel room. I’m sitting on the balcony, third floor, looking out into darkness. I am alone. Not just in the sense that there is no one with me, but deeply alone. I am lost in my own thoughts. Loneliness enveloping every fiber of my being. I am cradling my lonely, like a child. You’ve never gone on any of my trips with me since I’ve been traveling for work. It’s probably best that way. So you won’t know what I’ve done.

The dampness is working its way into my bones as I sit, staring out to the sea. The waves are violent tonight, crashing and rough. Just like my mood. I drank too much tequila at the bar earlier. I went alone and came back alone.

I sit and think about us. Are you slipping away from me or is it the other way around? Am I losing myself and you in the process? We are rocky like the cliff this hotel is on. Everything feels like it’s up in the air. My whole life is just a puff of air, exhaled from weak lungs. I wish you were with me. Not just physically, but mentally. You are entirely someplace else and I miss you. I still believe you’re the one. The one I waited all my life for. But now I am scared. Scared that this rift between us will keep growing and I don’t know how to close it, or if I can.

Scared that eventually you will be gone, and with that, I will go too.

Categories: Addiction, Anxiety, bipolar disorder, Depression, Mania, Mental Health, OCD, PCOS, Self Esteem, Travel, Wanderlust