The sudden realization that things are irrevocably damaged is something for which one can never be prepared. Even if you know something is happening, actually reaching that end point isn’t what you expect it to be. Maybe I’m just too emotionally or too invested in things, because I thought that I knew what was happened and I thought I was fine with it. I am fine with it, it’s just not what I expected it to be. And as different as this is from what I was prepared for, I know that it’s only going to get worse. The only way that I can describe it is that it’s analogous to a stress strain curve. I know we haven’t reached the rupture point yet, and I don’t know if we ever will, but we’ve passed the point of yield strength: forever deformed. We’re necking and ultimate strength point is unknown. I don’t know what’s going to happen or what I want to happen, but I know that I’m not consistently happy anymore. Some days I feel like we have an elastic relationship that will eventually pop back into place as best friends, but others (like today) I feel like things are closer to rupturing our plastic relationship forever. The deformation wrecking everything that once was, leaving us to construct our own future with the knowledge gained from our failure.
I think I’m going to take a walk. I’m waiting on a letter anyway, so I can go check for it.
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