So after 2.5 years, it's over with yet another splitting episode. By now they don't even hurt anymore. I'm sad for him and for me, for all the fucking misery and pain and ugliness of BPD that he lives with. I won't discuss this with many people, so I guess I just wanted to write it down somewhere where some people might know what I am feeling - the exhaustion, the numbness, the acceptance, the feeling of waste 