How Strong Are You Now?

Yeah. This is going to be another entry about how broken hearted I am over my ex. So. Probably save your time and wait for the next one. It’s just sucks…all advice ever says you’re supposed to share your feelings…and it’s not like I don’t want to, but I’ve never liked to. Not when it has to do with me being upset. I feel like when I talk about stuff like that, I’m just asking people to feel sorry for me, and screw that. But I just feel so goddamn sad, and I don’t know what to do about it. Once or twice I’ve posted something on Twitter or Facebook, that makes it pretty clear something is up, but not what exactly…and I hate myself for doing that too, because again, it just feels like I’m begging for attention. However stupid it sounds though, it helps a little. I’m talking in circles.

I had to hear him tell her ‘I love you’ today. He came by to pick up the rest of his stuff, and stayed to talk for a little bit, and I’ve been doing so fucking good, and then his phone rang, and I should have walked away like I did the last time he was here and his phone when off, because seriously, what higher being did I piss off enough to deserve that? Not two weeks ago, that’s who I was waking up next to, the person that I was talking about a future with, the person that I would given everything and done anything for..not two weeks ago, ‘I love you’ was ours. And now it’s theirs. It’s not like I didn’t know that. It’s not like she’s some random chick he walked out on me for. I know it was theirs before…and whatever. I get it. I’m not stupid. But to sit there, and listen to him tell her that, and not completely lose it……that’s just not fair. And then he sat there and told me I was still in his heart, he still loved me, he’s waiting…almost wanting her to screw it up so we can make us work. What the fuck. How the hell am I supposed to handle that? He said he’s with her, because he can’t not give his family a chance. He can’t just go the rest of his life not knowing if his family had worked out if he gave them the chance. And I get that. But why couldn’t he just leave it at that? What am I supposed to do with that knowledge? I still love you and hope she screws up too? What the fuck good does that do? I….I just don’t know. I’m hurt, and I’m tired of being hurt, and I want so many things, and I don’t know what I want at all.

And I need more tequila.

I don’t really know how to deal with being hurt. I’ve never been hurt like this in my life. I’ve seen a few of my exes go through it…because maybe I don’t know to leave well enough alone. Maybe I will from now on. The first ones way to deal was to try and drink everything away. I’ve dabbled in that method, but alcohol affects me way to adversely to be able to really rely on it, which is good I guess. That’s why this is my second drink tonight, and not my 7th. ‘Cuz trust me, after today, I could be 14 in and still not have had enough. The way the other person dealt with it was holding on. But, from what I’ve seen, that’s pretty much the worst thing to do, if feeling better is your goal. Which…isn’t surprising considering the masochistic streak this person suffers from. He asked me, when we officially broke up, if I wanted him to stay for a little while, because he wanted to make sure I was okay. And I did. My god, I did. I wanted to curl up in his arms, and just have everything right in the world for 2 more seconds if I could have them….but I knew, that even if it felt like it, even if I got one more weeks, day, moment…it would be a lie. Just because he was there, didn’t mean everything wasn’t happening. It didn’t mean I wasn’t losing him. So, as much as I wanted him to stay, I knew that the reason I wanted him to stay was because I wanted him to stay, and no matter how long he stayed…he was still going to go…and I would know that, and it would just hurt so much more to pretend, so I told him to go. And it helped. I still hurt, but it felt like more of a healing hurt once he was gone, instead of just a hurt, hurt.

But then he comes here today and fucks it all up. He absentmindedly called me ‘baby’ as he was getting the rest of his things today. That didn’t sting or anything. And then he tells me that. Well, many thats, technically. Ass. I still love you. I want to be with you. I want you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I wish it had been you and I before her and I. I’m waiting for her to mess up so I can leave. I don’t know what to do with all of that. That stuff isn’t supposed to come up after a breakup. He also said something along the lines of this…I’m sorry, but I’m doing you a favor, because you’re going to be so much stronger after this.


But, as fucked up as it is, part of me agrees with him. I hate feeling like this, but I’m not broken yet. There’s a morbid part of me that wants to know how much I can take. Probably not a good road to go down….

Beware of Spot.

The Crying Part

Listening to: Help Me Remember – Rascal Flatts

I told myself today that I was done with the crying part.

And that’s as far as I got writing yesterday. So, for accuracy’s sake…I told myself yesterday that I was done with the crying part. I have a lot of flaws, and I’d like to be different in a lot of ways, but I like to think I’m a pretty strong person, and I decided that I was done crying about it. Wouldn’t it be awesome if life just worked that way? I actually did pretty well at first. I was at the point where I could be mad at him for choosing her over me, rather than just hurt. Then I almost ruined it with a song. I was re-reading something a friend wrote, and they refer, and then later link to a song I like, and haven’t heard in a really long time, so I clicked the link, and I almost broke down about half a verse in. So I turned the song off. And I did good for most of the rest of the day. A couple of friends invited me out, and although what I really wanted to do was sit on the couch and numb my brain with Netflix, I dragged my butt into the shower and went out. And I felt like I was making progress, seeing as the day before when I got into the shower, I sobbed the entire time, and literally had to fight myself to not just curl up in a pathetic mess of a ball right there in the tub.

So, I went out with my friends, and sort of forgot about everything for a while, as much as it’s possible to forget about it when it’s still so fresh. Then I came home. Then he got here.  I guess, I should add at this point, that nothing was official yet. We were still ‘together’, but he had spent the night before at her place, and the night before that he was there until 3:30 am. But he was with me. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to be with her yet. I was thinking about it one time, and I got pissed at myself, because I let myself get stuck in that position again. I guess the good thing is, I at least knew what to do this time. His mind was made up though, so it didn’t really matter. So, we made it official, and in the process I lost it. I was doing so freaking good, but seeing how he looked at me, the softness in his voice, it broke me. Because I knew he still cared, and it hurt. It hurt because I knew, as much as he wanted his family back, he truly didn’t want to hurt me, and I wish that he did. Or I wish at least, that he didn’t care. That he was an asshole about it. Because then I could be pissed. But he had to decide between the family that he started, or an 8 month relationship, and come on, who can hold what he chose against him?

So, yesterday I was not done with the crying part. Today’s a new day though, and I’m still hurt, but I’m not mad like I was. I got closure and that helped. That we’re done. I told him last night that I felt like I was holding on to nothing, and you would think that since it’s nothing, it wouldn’t really make a difference whether you were holding on or letting go, because in the end, it’s still nothing…but I feel a lot better now that I got to let go. I still feel a little numb and hurt, but I also feel like I can move on. So, maybe today I’m done with the crying part.

I realize that the last sentence is pretty much the perfect ending to the blog, but I’m not quite done yet, so I apologize. If you really want to, read the whole thing over, and just stop there. Come back some other time and read this. Pretend this is a whole new entry. Imagination time is fun or something. I just wanted to put it out there how unfair breakups are. Because, from my experience at least, they are usually kind of sudden. Like, you might know something is wrong, but people have rough patches, and you think you’ll get through it, but nope, bam, it’s just done. And it’s not fair. Because nobody told you it was going to end, it just did. You didn’t have time to prepare. You didn’t know the last kiss was your last kiss. That your last hug was going to be the last time you’d be wrapped in their embrace where everything in the world is okay. That the last night you share in the same bed would be the last time that bed didn’t seem obscenely huge and lonely. Because if you knew all those lasts were coming, you could kiss them so deeply, hug them so tightly, and just hold them for one night…and it would seem more right when it was over. But we don’t get those moments. We’re left wondering if our last kiss was even a real kiss, or just a peck before work. And then you hate the fact that you didn’t take the 3 or 4 seconds in the morning to really give them a kiss before they left, because then your last kiss could have at least been real. It’s not fair. There are so many regrets we’re left with when a relationship ends, those little things shouldn’t have to be included in them, but they are, and it sucks.

Beware of Spot