It hurts so badly. I don’t really know why.

I miss C. A lot. I don’t know why I miss her more than usual, but I do.

I woke up thinking about something she posted on Facebook last year about a boyfriend: My hand wanted you, my body wanted you. At the time, I was really shocked. Country X-ers don’t talk like that, not even teenagers on Facebook. I was thinking today what an honest statement that was, and how much someone with disorganized attachment wants connection, wants physical connection, wants their body to be okay and wants touch to be okay.

Something happened to C’s body—she got this horrible boil on it—and I wrote a long letter to her about it on Monday, because I guessed that she might feel ashamed. I told her, in the long version of this, that things happen to our bodies and we get sick, and when we get sick sometimes it feels dirty. But we as people are not dirty. We get well again. That dirty feeling is not who we are. I told her she is not dirty, and I love her.

Anyway, I was thinking how much I want C, how much I want to hold her in my arms. And also how much it hurts to want her. I cannot think about holding her in my arms without tears streaming down my face. I don’t know why that happens, why it hurts so much. I don’t have any real idea. But I know that I have coped my whole life by trying not to feel things, and now I am trying to cope by managing my feelings instead. So I am trying to manage this pain instead of trying to make it go away. And it’s hard. It is really, really hard.

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