I was right...

... it is worse than anticipated.

I have nothing new or profound to contribute to all the awful blogging on breakups. I'm unwell, which is to be expected. But rest assured, dear reader, I am in no danger of plunging myself into Crazy Valley. Thus far, I've used my brain to the utmost, in order to anesthetize myself for it. But it is difficult to sustain detachment from one's emotions and as with all opiates, that numbing effect has worn off.

Here are a few things that I am thinking:

1. My favorite translation of the ideogram 愛 (ai) is Burton Watson's: "cannot bear to part with" because it better captures the agony than the abstract and more commonly translated term "love." I'm having a difficult time with the idea that I will probably never see him again.
2. As Trey says: Why can't people just act right? It is startlingly simple, but this is a pervasive concern. More specific to this situation, an aversion to hurt him competes with that interest of making myself intelligible to him, seeing him answerable for his conduct. If he could experience even a modicum of my pain, would he be able to justify it?
3. I regret not having absconded with one of his t-shirts from the hamper. I'm sure that the idea is repugnant/unhygienic to you, dear reader. And I'm sure that the last thing I need at this point is to be curled up in bed sobbing my eyes out into a raggedy wad of cotton. But, he really is the best-smelling guy I've known.