I feel like one of those poor souls in the WTC on 9/11, above where the planes hit. The flames haven't reached them yet, but they know this is it, it's over, they'd better jump now before it gets a lot worse. And yet I imagine they must have been hesitating in disbelief, too: "this can't be happening! This sort of shit just does not happen!"
I am in the emotional WTC, looking down at where my Beloved has torn a blazing hole in my psyche. I am stuck between disbelief, fantasizing that this can't be happening, that some impossible rescue will be coming at any minute, and yet knowing it's time to jump before things get a hell of a lot worse.