Day 1 – The Morning (01/11/2026)

I woke up this morning with tears dried to the corners of my eyes, as if I’d been sobbing all night…yet all I remember is the darkness that I fell asleep to.

I begrudgingly crawled out of the warmth of my bed, the bed that used to be ours, the bed where we laughed, shared fond memories of our pasts, shared our not so fond memories,

but more importantly where we shared each other’s time. 

I couldn’t help but think back on the days and nights I wasted where you’d be ready for bed and all you would ask for is 5 minutes of my time, and not even that was I willing to give on most nights…I’d kiss you on the head, say I’d be back in an hour…which was a lie. I’d stay out until finally my brain would give in and tell me it’s okay to sleep…when I should have been telling myself all those days and nights…it’s okay to stay…to spend moments like these with the person you loved…and not resent the person who asked, but resent the person, myself, that was telling me to run away to get another fix.

After moments of resounding pain, recycled thoughts, and moments spiraling down a void… I found myself being caught…by the reminders of who I needed to become…by reminders of parts of me that used to be willing to give myself to the world rather than hide from it. So, in a moment of courage and strength my feet touched the ground and I stood up. 

I stood up for the first time without feeling dizzy, without feeling like I wasn’t going to be able to make it through the day. Without feeling like I wasn’t going to become just that little bit better for myself. The previous night before bed I had written down a the easy things that I could do to make my life just that one percent better, the things that if I did every day even in days of sadness that maybe I could have gotten through it faster rather than sinking into a hole of self pity, a hole where I feared to grow, because I had dragged down the person I loved into my hole. Dragged them down into my wasteland, dragged them down into my despair…and yet even with them in my hole I’d only look at them for some warmth and immediately would shun them to their side of my own dark hole…any time they would start to climb out, I’d lash out, “You’re leaving me, you’re not caring for me, you don’t see me, why aren’t you listening to me”…but she had been…she had held out her hand more times than I can count, more times than I can remember, and if I wasn’t trying to grab it to drag her back down…I was trying to swat it away, or worse bite at it viciously. 

That’s right, the easy things. Get my shoes on, go on a walk, listen to a podcast or a longform YouTube video that was going to bring me insight into myself rather than just create another distraction from myself. 

The walk.

I couldn’t really remember the last time I walked alone. Along the same paths that she and I used to. The same route, the same houses we’d pass and think to ourselves, maybe one day we’d be able to afford that house…stress would be induced…affordable housing? What world do we live in where that’s a thing? “Not with our income, at least not with saving for 10 years” – Shattering her dreams…to bring her into my reality…rather than just enjoying the moment of fantasy with her. 

These thoughts were intermingled insights from wiser people than myself telling me to not just dwell on the good times which was trying to satisfy the fix, the feeling comfortability with that person…but I shouldn’t have just been comfortable with them…I should have been…more…I should have felt safe to say the things I’m saying now…now to myself…to her….I should have felt seen when she was reaching out her hand to me in my darkest times rather than judged, I should have listened without waiting to reply in an instant…I should have…as my thoughts were cut out by wiser people than I, “Don’t dwell on the good times, you can cherish them, you can be happy that there were good times in fact. What you should be doing is learning, learning from the pain, learning from the heartbreak, learning from the countless mistakes you made”

“Mistakes I’ve made?…what mistakes haven’t I made…” I would say to myself…

Countless times in not just my relationship with myself…but with others…with her…”I’m right…your wrong…you’re stubborn too…it’s just a video game, it’s just a hobby, it’s not an addiction, it’s how I recharge…it’s how I blow off steam…” ….or “You’re just acting a bit emotional right now, you don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ll change on my own timeline, you don’t need to know when that is, I’ll do it in a bit..” all empty promises…pointless arguments with no resolution.

So how do I hold myself accountable…how do I move on not just from the relationship we had when it ended…the “mature” toxic, the hand waived, the comfortable, the everything is okay, the naive, relationship that it had grown into. How do I move on from that? How do I move on from that man who grew from a laughing on the daily, cherishing the little moments and little things, the man that wasn’t scared to go on multiple dates in a week just to see this person, the man that randomly would get ideas and actually act on them, the man that wanted not just to provide financial safety, but to provide some emotional safety, comfort, thoughtfulness, love with action, the man that would listen, the man that would try their best every day, the man that showed progress, to that man who occasionally smiled…who only focused on the bad that was going on in life at the moment, rather than living in the good that I had, the man that would refuse to wake up with their loved one because “I’m not a morning person”, even though I had shown in the past that I could be, the man that neglected himself, the man that neglected others, that neglected their own feelings by hiding in that dark hole…how do I move on from that man. That voice in the back of my head.

Grace

…I have to learn to give myself grace…to learn to give myself peace…to not just dwell in the negative but learn from it. Learn from the mistakes….grow from the mistakes. Learn to become that man that not only I once was temporarily at times, but learn to become that man all the time, and better yet, become a man not afraid of the growth, not afraid of expressing themself because they don’t want to hear the harsh truths, become a better man. A reliable man. A happy man. 

The rest of the walk…was made by holding back tears as I was rounding the corner to make my way back to my apartment…which was once our home…yet somehow feeling some sort of sense of relief that I did this thing. The next easy thing…take care of my body, physically, and in doing so my mental was allowed to speak freely, without thoughts of harm, without thoughts of self pity, harsh truths sure…reflection yes, growth even as small as making it through my first walk…and not even alone because I’m not truly alone, I have my family, friends, loved ones all rooting for me even at a distance, even when I can’t hear them, even when they are so busy with their own lives, I know they are rooting for me.

Returning home.

I walked through the door expecting the warmth that used to greet me every day, and opened it to something a little bit colder…and so I did the next easy thing…the thing she would do every day…awake the house…make it feel warmer…so I turned on the lights that I used to bicker at her for leaving on for the entire day…because it was wasting electricity…when in reality it was buying us time…it was making her feel safer, feel the atmosphere of a house that was welcoming…and on days when I’d wander out from my hole…my cave…and saw those lights even if wrongly I’d be upset that they were left on…it made me think of her…and that’s what mattered…what truly mattered wasn’t the extra dollar on the electric bill or even 10 dollars…it was the fact that it felt warm in a place we were building together…it felt like she was home with me…

The next easy things I tried to quickly do realizing that time was beginning to run short on when I should visit my mother, brew the coffee, so I opened the coffee grounds…the smell immediately triggered most if not all the memories of mornings when she’d gently wake me from my grumpy slumber with the most gentle, loving, caring voice. “You want a cup of coffee honey?” To which I would immediately reply yes, as I would slowly get out of bed…and go straight to my office, to begin numbing myself for the day because she was leaving for work…and there it was the coffee she’d make me…with most days she’d get a I love you as she was leaving, and I was still in my office, some days I’d walk her to the door, and some days I’d walk her to the car, even if it was freezing and I was still in my boxers…but in the final days…I wouldn’t even really take the time to sit with her…the days where she was home because she had the time off…the days where she was available and I didn’t need to numb myself…I could have sat down with her. 

As the coffee was beginning to brew…I went to take a shower…a place that was once a baron wasteland with just a piece of soap and all in one shampoo, that then had all of her hair products and a new hanging rack to fit it all, it was cluttered sure…but it felt like home…it felt like I wasn’t alone…and now once again…it’s a wasteland…a place where I used to not care how it looked, a place where when she was putting all the new things and products up I’d bicker at her like any man…”ugh it’s so cluttered, you’re taking up so much space in here”…when in reality she was just making it our space, and even if she had a lot of things, and I had so little…I should have appreciated it…the little things. The nearly empty tube of toothpaste she’d leave in the shower if she felt like multi-tasking, the 3 different types of skin care, all gone. After forgetting why I was in the shower in the first place, which was to cleanse myself from my walk I realized I needed to actually shower rather than just sulk…and so I did. I washed my hair, cleaned my body. Got out and dried off. Got dressed, and poured myself that cup of coffee.

So now…here I sit drinking my coffee, reflecting, acknowledging my pain, acknowledging the hard truths in my life, and even if it’s being done in silence, I know I’m not alone in my pain. My grief. My heartache. I sit here with my family in the front of my mind, my loved ones, my friends, all hoping I survive to the next day, but not just survive…thrive. Grow. Learn. Here I sit, with tears gathering in the corner of my eyes and not because of the darkness I had previously fallen asleep to, but because I know there is light at the end of the tunnel, I know  there is grace, and peace within my own life, and not within my ending. There is happiness to be had, shared, and expressed to the world, even if at times I feel like there is none…I know now I can express myself to myself, and not ignore it.

So before I leave for the day…I wanted to say a few words to myself. Thank you for continuing on. Living. Not drowning today, this morning. Thank you for apologizing to yourself, and thank you for allowing yourself to feel this pain, to feel. Allowing myself to feel more than just comfort. To feel uncomfortable, because that’s okay too.