Is this real or is it a game?

I often wonder about that.

2 weeks ago, I thought life was good aside from some minor annoyances and was wistful for things I wouldn't dream of if I had realized the truth of things. A very ugly hurtful truth that came out of hiding. Or maybe I didn't want to see it. And then exactly 1 week from today, was THE TALK. There has been more talking but to what end? And then there are the days that are glossed over in a surreal essence of domestic tranquility. It really makes me question if the undercurrent is real. But I know it's there. Like a ticking time bomb.
I can't do a damn thing about it. Except keep being me. Keep functioning as though the world isn't upside down. Because the world may right itself and then I will have to keep going without skipping a beat. Even if the world stays on a tilt, I still have to keep going without skipping a beat. Trying to be the best me I can be as inwardly I want to curl up in a ball, cry my eyes out some more, and deny that some very real possiblities may occur. I almost feel that this being in limbo is one of the more painful parts. But it also means there are no definites yet. Nothing is absolutely decided. Where there is time there is hope.
Yet I don't feel much of that hope. I feel hurt, confused, emotionally ransacked.