Call to the ex

I resisted calling him, even though at times I really want to. For who understand me better than anyone else? Who knows my story and deepest emotions and secrets better than anyone else? For better or for worse, it is my ex.

I started talking about how I've been feeling, how long I've wanted to call and talk to someone, anyone. And then the tears came.

I told him how much of a failure I feel I am. He reminded me of all I have gone through and achieved in the past 18 months. Taken care of mum, accompanied her till the very end, finished my (second) graduate degree, begun a new job, did law exams, traveled to India/Nepal on a pilgrimage... All these challenging things in the most difficult of circumstances. I broke down...

I could not contain my tears and I just sobbed and sobbed. In the corner of the room was a picture of mum. It was an enlarged picture of mum dancing, one morning, the morning after I surprised visited her, when she jumped up in joy (I imagine) seeing me again. I cried even more...

How I long for company, for someone to help kill this loneliness deep inside. How I long for love... how I long to go back to Europe and spend time with my nephew. Perhaps he was the wrong person to talk to because of complications between us, but I described how seeing my brother and his son made me long for family.

I sobbed uncontrollably for a few moments. Yes, this is what I needed. The release, the unleashing of emotions and pain, the breaking down so I can remind myself I can cry and that I can feel again. Because how afraid I was being unable to feel... how afraid I was  to lose the ability to feel pain and to cry.

Surprisingly, my ex's reaction was "softer" than before when we spoke. He listened, actually listened to me instead of telling me what I should do or how I should be doing. To my surprise, he said I should maybe take a break... do something "light", stop putting pressure on myself so much. I asked him whether he has been reading up on how to talk to people who lost someone. He replied all he wants to do is listen to me...

He had to cut the conversation short, or at least it felt like it even though it had almost been an hour. I was reluctant to go, because it felt so comforting, too comforting perhaps, that someone was listening to me cry. It helped immensely, and how I wished someone could be next to me to hold me and to comfort me... how I wished this night someone could be by my side to reassure me that everything will be alright...