Nothing to do except to wait and to hurt

From The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time, the novel by Mark Haddon that I just finished:

"I wanted to go to sleep so that I wouldn't have to think because there was no room for anything else in my head, but I couldn't go to sleep and I just had to sit there and there was nothing to except to wait and to hurt."

That's how I feel on the days when I don't hear from my best friend. I feel isolated and I panic and I think that I will never hear from him again. And then he calls or emails and everything is fine. He still cares for me and about me. We're still friends and we're still good.

I wish I didn't do this. Yet I do it so well! Awfulizing, imagining the worst as vividly as possible, it comes so easily to me. It's a waste of energy, I know. I also know that he's not the kind of person who would enjoying doing this to me (if he was aware of the impact his absence has on me, and I'm not sure he does).

My own worst enemy -- that's me.