A Piece of Me (Tracob)

It'll hurt - part one.

Jacob

Everyday I tell myself the next day will be better. They won't all be so exhausting and stressful and hurtful.

I'm starting to realize that, in fact, the bad days aren't flukes. They're just...days. They're normal days. This is the new normal.

And I've probably never had a worse week.

It feels like we broke up.

I knew things wouldn't be the same, of course I knew that.

I just hoped that maybe there would be some...love? Lingering affection or at least sympathy? I hoped that we would get through this together, but not only can he not remember me, I feel like he doesn't really like me.

Instead of us working towards a common goal, it's us just trying to exist day by day and not knowing what the other person wants. He avoids me, I know he does.

So yeah. It feels like we broke up.

And that might be the most hurtful thing yet.

--

It's Friday morning.

Troye's first day of physical therapy is today, through the unit at the hospital which means I have to take him back there.

I find the thought of going back rather traumatizing to be entirely honest, but it's not about me.

I sigh audibly to myself. Every day I say that everything I do for Troye is really for us. So he can get better, so we can have our relationship again, so everything can go back to normal.

And every day it feels like we stray further and further away from that.

Isn't that the opposite of what we're supposed to be doing? I think about this too much.

It's been a week since he got home and my God, it has been the longest week of my life. Every moment drags. His politeness seems forced, and I can see how sad and isolated he is.

And the worst part? I want to talk to my best friend about everything that's happening. My boyfriend. I want to curl up to him and whisper all of my troubles and I want him to tell me how it's okay and we'll get through this, and kiss my forehead and hold me while I sleep.

God what I wouldn't give to sleep with him. Once you get used to falling asleep next to someone, sleeping alone feels like shit. I sleep maybe three or four hours a night between that and the stress. Troye's the best cuddler. There's never a time when I don't feel safe and protected in his arms.

I wonder if he'd just let me hug him for a minute, just to, like... reset. Mandatory therapy hug.

Except that he maybe definitely wouldn't go for that because even when I help him up or hand him something he seems uncomfortable.

I guess it's just me and Nash. Still. At least Troye likes Nash. He takes him to his room a lot. That's where he spends most of his time. Sitting in his room. Ignoring me of course.

Why do I matter? I'm just giving up my entire life and putting my career on hold to stay home and take care of you.

By all means, avoid me. It doesn't hurt at all except for when it hurts so much I lay in bed at night and cry because I just wish he would be there with me.

Anyways, me and Nash are fine. And Troye's got therapy in 32 minutes.

--

I wheel him into the building. It's too far from the car to the entrance for him to walk, even though I know he's fuming over the wheelchair. He hates it. I think he'd probably kill himself trying to talk somewhere independently if I wasn't around to manage him.