Compartments

I feel like I've compressed all my pain and indignance and resentment and devastation and worthlessness and misery all into one very small room in my house. I've tried to fill the rest of the house with a loving peaceful and healing identity. I try to fill it to the brim with positive thoughts, hope, optimism, faith, and a desire to overcome this. And I keep the door to the first room locked tight. I try not to think about this room. I try to forget that there is such a place in my house.

But once or twice a day I open the door a crack, just to see whether the things in there have somehow changed or disappeared or died. Then I get an awful shock that they are still there in full force, they consume me and they start to seep into the rest of my rooms, extinguishing the light. And I quickly scramble to contain them in the room again and lock it tight.

And everyday, i try to make the room smaller and smaller, compressing it into an even smaller corner of my house. It's a very tightly controlled process.

I told him again that he needs to let go of her completely. He says that it's hard to let go of the friendship. I tell him that it's not a friendship anymore and it continues to pain me when he keeps that 'friendship' around. The very fact that he is willing to prolong the pain to me, even after the original pain inflicted, is enough for me to open the door to the room wide open and let the despair flood the house. But I don't. I don't dare to because I don't think I can close it all back in once I do. And once I take that step, it will be all over.

I told him how illogical he is acting, to how resistant he is to letting go of this thing that is harmful to all involved. But he just can't see it. I wish to God that the fog will lift soon.


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