Preparing to let go.

You wouldn't believe it, but only a few minutes ago, I was sitting at the dining room table having an intense conversation with John.  Emotions were on edge and all the while, I was sitting there--resisting the urge to bolt from the table and run outside to choke down a cigarette, seeing as I wouldn't dare dream of lighting up inside.  Nevertheless, with all the courage I could muster and even with my cigarettes outside, I managed to stay focused on the conversation already in progress.

We were talking about breaking up.  

I can't really say it came as a surprise to either of us.  In fact, I don't even think I flinched when the words came out of my mouth.  However, sitting here now, trying to replay bits and pieces of the conversation from earlier--I can barely recall much of it.  The segments that am I able (and willing) to recite sounded something like this:  "Maybe I'm not that person that you want to spend the rest of your life with."  "Animal at the bottom of the ocean..." " Depression and processing..." 

Blah. Blah. 

While he and I were talking and airing out our complaints and frustrations, miraculously neither one of us raised our voices at the other.  But rather, we spoke in calm tones and we both maintained a sense of rationale when confronting the other person.  

Now, a couple of hours later, the house is uncomfortably quiet.  And that's the part that I hate the most.