At the moment all I seem to be doing is waiting.
I’m waiting to hear from the talking therapy my GP referred me to a few weeks ago.
I’m waiting for my (ex) other half to start talking to me again.
I’m waiting for my life to change, not sure into what.
After our row last week my now ex hasn’t acnowledged my presence in the house in any way.
The first morning after I made two cups of coffee like I always do, but he ignored it and made himself another one.
The full cup sat there on the kitchen table for hours, as a painful physical statement of “I want to forget all about you”.
I threw it away in the end.
It’s small things like this that really get to me, reminders of something that has been lost.
Reminds me of when you first get together with someone, the little gestures and things that are sweet, surprising and delightful.
Someone wiping a breadcrum from your face, slicing you some fruit, or holding the umbrella for you.
They cheer you up and make you feel special.
Like a cup of coffee in the morning.