When the sixth sense is right

I just feel an awful pain.

On Sunday morning, I woke up and couldn't resist the sadness welling up in my body. I began to cry as soon as I got up in bed. I texted Sean, "How have you been? I feel so disconnected from you. Is there something I should know?" Then I was in the pit of deep despair, depression, and grief. I kept crying, like there was no switch off to my tears. I cried the whole day, and went painting in the afternoon.

I decided to draw the beach where Eric took me before I left the City of Gold. I cried as I drew. I felt disruptions of frustration, anger, and sadness as I stroked my brush on the cloth. Occasionally I also had to reply to text messages from my family and friends and answer phone calls from my mom because I told them I was suicidal. None of them was able to give me comfort. All they told me was what I did wrong and how terrible I was. But all I really want is someone, just one person, in this world, who can love me for who I am. Someone besides myself. Someone who accepts and loves all of my feelings. Someone who doesn't get annoyed or judge me when I cry. Someone who can hold me when I cry.

Finally in the evening, Sean replied my text messages and told me he had been busy with his family. I texted back, "I would like to know where our relationship stands at the moment and whether my frustration and sadness are one-sided and unjustified. Can I?" He said he'd like to discuss it with me as well later night that.

I finished my painting, and went to a nice risotto place for dinner alone. I cried as I ate. It was like the tap of tears couldn't be switched off. I hadn't felt that sad for a long time. It was worse than when Michael broke up with me.

As I got home, my mom was there waiting for me and gave me a hug, but it just felt fake. She still refused to face the deepest wound in my heart, which comes from her and my father. Then my aunt called me and tried to encourage me. I knew they cared about me, but they're not men. I wanted to feel the embrace of a man who could hold me like a baby, who could make me feel secure. None of these people in my life can do that, because they're women and they're emotionally distant.

I probably had cried half a gallon of tears by then. In the end, Sean called. We talked. We broke up. He said he could feel that I was very nice to him and I was a sweet girl, but the long distance situation wouldn't work, and he also wanted to focus on his studies and career. I cried even more, until my head ached. He said the long distance situation wouldn't be fair to me and it'd be worse if we ended things then. I said, "hurtful is just hurtful. There's no more hurtful or less hurtful." He said he was sorry but he really didn't want to hurt me. I told him that it wasn't his fault and I knew he wasn't intentional. But he made a choice after all. He didn't believe in me. He chose to believe in his rationale for predicting our future instead of me. He didn't believe that I was the one that he had to hold onto forever. How is it possible not to take it personally after so many men?

My head hurt nonstop for the following three days. After some Tylenols I am finally headache free now. I've also told myself that I shouldn't be crying so hard ever. But there's just so much pain in me that needs healing. Perhaps that's why it's been raining these couple of days. The universe is crying for me again.