When you’re not next to me, I lose control. It’s a feeling that creeps up on me, unannounced and overwhelming. The absence of your presence is like a void that I can’t seem to fill, a void that makes me question everything about myself and my life. It’s a haunting sensation, one that makes me feel like I’m adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with no compass to guide me back to the shore of stability.
The world around me seems to blur when you’re not there. Colors lose their vibrancy, sounds become muffled, and even the air feels thinner. It’s as if the universe itself is conspiring against me, trying to remind me of your absence. I find myself reaching out, trying to touch the memories of you, to feel the warmth of your touch once more. But those memories are like shadows, elusive and fleeting, always just out of reach.
It’s not just the physical distance that causes this loss of control. It’s the emotional disconnect that follows. When you’re not next to me, I feel disconnected from the world around me. My relationships with others seem strained, my sense of purpose diminishes, and my confidence wanes. I’m left feeling lost and alone, even when I’m surrounded by people who care about me.
This loss of control is also a reflection of my own insecurities. I realize that without you, I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I’m vulnerable, exposed, and scared. I fear that I’ll never find someone else who can fill the void you’ve left behind, and that fear paralyzes me. It makes me question my worth, my abilities, and my future.
But amidst this chaos, there is a silver lining. The realization that I lose control when you’re not next to me has taught me a valuable lesson. It has shown me that I need to rely on myself, to build my own foundation and find my own strength. It has made me more resilient, more determined, and more compassionate.
I’ve learned to embrace the feeling of loss, to use it as a catalyst for growth. I’ve started to cultivate my own interests, to surround myself with positive influences, and to focus on self-improvement. I’m learning to find joy in the little things, to appreciate the moments of solitude, and to cherish the memories of you.
So, while the feeling of losing control when you’re not next to me remains, I’ve found a way to cope. I’ve accepted that this is a part of me, a part of my journey. And as I continue to grow and evolve, I know that one day, I’ll be able to face this feeling with confidence and grace.
In the end, the pain of losing control when you’re not next to me has become a testament to my strength. It has shown me that I’m capable of overcoming adversity, that I’m capable of healing, and that I’m capable of finding happiness, even in the face of loss. And for that, I am grateful.
