A Year Spent Without You (Part 3)

Three Months Sober

“Should I invite him to my birthday party?” I asked my roommate while we sat on the floor of the kitchen playing with our cat.

“I’m really not sure what the best option is in this situation, honey.” She replied. Her eyes fell with concern like a caring mother.

“I would love to see him…” I said with a sigh.

“But it might cause too much of a scene to be a good idea.”

My heart sank deeper into my stomach.

It had been sinking farther and farther every time your name came up in conversation.

I reflected back on the past few months I had spent without you.

Countless friends pulled me aside at parties

at concerts

at school

everywhere I went.

Every person said the same sentence, give or take a few words.

“I’m so sorry about how it ended with you two. You were a great couple. There was a lot of love there. Let me know if you need anything.”

Everyone knew within the first week.

I was afraid to leave the house

Because I knew your name would pop into conversations and I’d shrink back into a miserable state of half hearted explanations to put the nosy ones at ease.

I had slept in another bed.

In another room.

And hated myself afterward.

It was a few kisses.

But it validated all of my fears.

I was completely numb without you.

My lips were numb.

My eyes sank low and extravagant colors faded into shades of grey.

My heart began to dry up and flake away every time someone mentioned your name.

The old me had disappeared

She must have followed you out when you left.


Six Months Sober

“What do you mean she’s seeing someone?!” You demanded to a mutual friend.

“She’s started seeing this guy a couple months ago, and she’s pretty crazy about him.” Jason exclaimed, taken aback by the rash reaction.

“It’s only been six months. How can she be seeing someone else?” You asked, unconvinced.

“I’m not sure, dude. That’s just what I know.” Jason said honestly.

You searched through his social media profiles.

Your heart sank.

My heart had began floating again.

You had finally hit the wall.

The wall that is completely ruthless and watches with cruel eyes as you attempt to climb over it with calloused hands.

The wall we must all climb when we are grieving and ultimately healing.

I had climbed and conquered the wall months before.

You were just about to begin.



Read Part 1 here

Read Part 2 here


Facebook – Becca Tremmel

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Twitter – @littlelionbecca

Photo Credit: Alyssa Jiosa

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