I didn’t expect the end to feel quite like this.
I thought it would be characterised by indifference and calmness.
Instead, I’m full of frustration and anger and a constant urge to just say something.
I thought it would come in waves and the bad days would be punctuated by good days.
More like the bad weeks are punctuated by good moments.
I trick myself into thinking I can claw it back,
that I’m just being irritable and I need to be more positive.
But as words leave my mouth, my brain heaves a heavy sigh – ‘why bother?’
I can’t tell if you sense the end or if you’re feeding off my apathy.
I know I’ll feel better when I announce our journey’s end,
but that’s when this stress will transform.
You float around me, seeming to lack purpose to your movements.
I purposefully try not to let it wind me up.
Some may consider it the calm before the storm, but there’ll be no storm in this breakup.
Like the waves crashing on our Brighton shoreline,
over the last few months, our relationship has worn away my happiness and washed away the castles that we’ve built.