absinthe

The past two and a half days have been this blur that's left me shaken. The Boy of nearly a year and a half and I broke up on Sunday after our first physical fight, which I initiated. I moved out the next day and this afternoon picked up the rest of my things. He's leaving at the end of the week for home.
I have a lot to say and find myself trying to censor it for fear of being dramatic or tragic or giving too much away. But I guess I'll say that on the whole I've been terribly lucky in the sense that we both got out with a couple scratches and a bruised lip for me; that my friend happened to tell me I was invited to stay at the house she's housesitting just the day before the fight; that one of my co workers was around and gave me a ride to the house so I didn't have to walk ten blocks in the rain with my bags; that another friend just happened to be in town to help me move out; that I ran into Scylla who put me in touch with a friend who's looking for a roomate in July, which is when I have to be out of this house by. It makes me think that things will be okay even though I feel so sad and worried and scared.
It's so hard to say goodbye to someone when you love them with your whole heart and have still done them wrong. When you've been so codependent for years that it seems impossible to ever really love anyone as much. And feeling like you can't really convey that is the hardest thing. Not to mention the last night together, the last shower or dinner or TV show. Not to mention a last kiss or glance or hug goodbye or last I love you to the sound of an ll to familiar song in the background.
But we did them all and Im just trying to breathe deeply and keep going. I know there's not really anything to say when someone lays this kind of stuff on you so if you're reading out there in internetland, not commenting is fine. And I know I'm not the first or last or truest person to have loved and lost, but it's easy to feel like that anyway sometimes.