Thanksgiving Day… well, it was a day off from work. That’s a good thing. I stuffed myself silly–I was looking forward to that after so many days of calorie counting. I actually started eating from the second I woke up. Unfortunately, when you feel this empty on the inside, no food will fill you. Despite all the lovely things I carefully put aside to eat today, I did not enjoy a single bite. There was a time when food used to be my greatest pleasure, but my old hobbies provide very little comfort these days. Not food, not art, not shopping… it’s all kind of pointless now. I try so hard to be upbeat on my blog, but I have good days and bad days, and today is one of the bad ones. All I can think of is how lonely I feel. I am obsessing over the fact that the people who I loved and have hurt me are doing just fine without me. They go on with their life, enjoy new loves, and live well, while I am forgotten. It’s like I may as well not even exist. All the beautiful poetry, vows and declarations of love… they meant nothing. I meant nothing.
After our Thanksgiving meal (during which I cried all the way through, but nobody noticed), I went to have a shower where I could cry some more, without anyone having to hear how much pain I’m feeling. Under the water, I sobbed. I cried for the man I loved, who could not love me back. I cried for the woman I am, who was so naive, thinking that words actually meant something. I cry for the feeling of hopelessness that just seems to take over sometimes.
We didn’t have a turkey this year, but we didn’t need one, because I am the biggest turkey of them all.