Hi guys, I have never been a part of a forum like this or any other type before.  I dont even usually talk to too many people about the issues (relationship and otherwise) going on in my life.  Ive never liked the thought of burdening my friends and family, or complete strangers even for that matter, with my woes and problems. 

That being said, the depth of the pain and grief I'm feeling right now made me want to try something, anything, to reach out to a community of people that are either experiencing or have experienced heartbreak, in hopes of maybe gleaning a piece of wisdom or guidance, or perhaps being that piece of wisdom and guidance to someone in a darker place than I, or at very least (which is still a lot) to be here, in solidarity with other souls aching in this moment.

Just to paint a picture, my name is Grey, I'm (nearly) 26 and have (i guess now its "HAD") been in a monogomous and joyous relationship for 7 years.  We met when she was 18, just heading to college and immediately fell into a much deeper love than either of us could have imagined.  Within the first year we started living together.  When I say we were happy, we truly were. I can count on one hand the amount of serious arguments we had over 7 years.  We were always honest, and forthright with each other.  We started building a life together, turning my space into our space.  We dreamed of our future, our kids, our parents as happy grandparents.  She supported me in my dream to become a small business owner and I supported her in her dream of being a musician.  We were two broke, but happy, artists.  To make a long story much shorter, about 15 days ago she told me she wanted to move out and break up.  She said she had been with me through her entire adult life and didnt know what it was like to be on her own and not have to take anyone elses feelings into consideration.  She said she needed space to figure out herself and make sure that she knows who she is and that she is capable of being happy on her own.  I entirely understand. But that is what makes it perhaps all the worse.  We still love each other, but she needs to do this.  Nothing i say or do can do any good at this point, protesting or pleading will only cause to drive her further.  

When youve been with someone for that long (though I know to many of you 7 years must sound like chump change) your entire identity becomes enmeshed with theirs (or at least mine did) all of our hopes and dreams and plans for the future were intertwined and seemed so solid. So stable, this luminous warm future that we walked confidently hand in hand towards.  But now?

I feel as though all of the sunlight has left my world.  Food turns to ash in my mouth and sleep is the cruelest reprieve.  Nightmares are bad, but when you wake from one, you find out you were scared for nothing and youre right back into the dull aching of your waking nightmare.  Good dreams are where the real pain lies.  When I close my eyes and finally, after what can be hours, of laying there with my eyes screwed tight and my breathe caught in my chest, I drift to sleep and dream of...well it doesnt really matter what I dream of, shes there.  Her smile, her touch, her warmth, and most of all the look in her eyes when she looks in mine.  It is perfect, its the salve to every wound, except for one small problem.  When my eyes fly back open and the amber tones of a beloved memory give way to the dark room and the painfully empty bed, I am forced to confront the aching fact that it is not real.  

And the bed..the f**king bed.  After 7 years of holding someone every night, the warmth of skin so sweet and familiar, and listening to their breathing fall predictably into a peaceful rhythm that lets you know you can sleep as well, an empty bed (no matter if its a cal king or a tiny twin) feels like an endless expanse of emptiness and pain. 

Lost, I guess lost is the best word to summarize how I feel.  Not just the kind of lost where you dont know where you are or even who you are.  But the kind of lost where you feel you are so far into the dark woods that no one can find you and bring you back to safety, that is  if anyone is even out searching for you. 

Yet as I type this, I realize the fundamental fallacy to this analogy.  No matter how deep we are in the woods, no matter how dark, we cant curl up and wait for someone to come looking for us and save us.  To curl up and wait for whatever fate befalls us sometime feels as though it is the only path we are capable of choosing, but there is always, ALWAYS another option.  We have the choice to stand up, despite the fear, and take a step forward.  It may be a small step, it may be a timid step, it might not even be a step in the direction of where you entered woods originally.  But it is movement.  It is the greatest strength we posses as humans.  To do something, anything, in the face of paralyzing fear and pain is triumph.  We start with these small, feeble steps, but soon realize we are taking larger steps and soon full strides. 

Or so I hope.  I see it, and i truly believe my feeble steps will turn into confident strides and I will emerge from the darkness.  Eventually.

But today it became real.  I came home and there were cardboard boxes packed and labeled.  The holes in our wardrobe where her clothes used to be seem to be a perfect visualization of how my soul feels.  Empty.  Especially because in our wardrobe, as in my heart, she took up 85% of the space.  

There are none of the paintings we had collected and created on the walls anymore, just unsightly blank spaces where the paint isnt quite the same colour.  The 7 years worth of pictures and polaroids of us that had cheerefully watched over us every night from our media center were entirely un acounted for.  This place to me is now a visceral reminder that this is real, a waking nightmare.  And she is gone.  My heart becomes consumed again with the ceaseless blackness that threatens to suffocate me.  All i can do is sit on our couch, and sob.