So, as expected, T isn’t coming to our wedding.
I’d asked her to tell me (confirm, really, I knew I was getting married too far away from her) by email before tomorrow’s session so that I could process the initial, agonising pain alone, instead of exposed in front of her. So she did.
I’m in the bath, bleeding from the tiny, fragile heart cut into my wrist and trying to remember that I knew this was coming and it’s better to know. Trying to remember I will still find her woven throughout my wedding day, just not physically.
I am so angry with myself for getting married so far away. Little is screaming at me, telling me off.
I could really do with some support, blog world. I feel like I’m dying.