I read a post earlier on Ash in search of… (ashinsearchof.wordpress.com) about having good days and bad days when it comes to getting over somebody. I can relate 110% and today is one of my bad days.
After what felt like an eternity in work I finally came home to crawl into bed… For 4 hours. Productive, eh? Reading that post was a comfort in a way, to know that I’m not alone. But solitude, or the lack thereof, has nothing to do with loneliness, and so I’m still so damn lonely without my best friend – no matter how many other heartbroken souls I connect with (and I feel for every single one of them).
I panic when I think about him. About him being happy without me, thanking himself for making the decision to leave me, feeling like a weight has been lifted… Was I really that hard to live with? That hard to love? He loved me before, what changed? Did he get to know me so well and just realise I’m not that great? That I’m downright bad? Why did he tell me he still loves me ‘so fucking much’ even after the break up? Was it a mistake to fight so hard for him? Now he’s probably walking around like King Dick knowing a girl like me will do anything for him, even when he constantly reminds her of every bad thing she’s ever done until she hates herself. I doubt he’ll find anyone else who loves him/is stupid enough to put up with that. Then again, I can’t imagine him doing it to anyone other than me. He’ll find somebody better, who never makes mistakes, never bruises his fragile ego…
But I bet the sex will be boring as shit.
He text me again yesterday. A photo of his daughter playing with the birthday present I’d sent her. I simply replied with ‘thanks for the photo’ but in reality I wasn’t thankful at all. It was like (yet another) dagger in stomach. A photo of the happy life I’m no longer a part of. A photo of my could-have-been. I find his communication cruel and have to remind myself (and all my friends and family who want to kill him, figuratively speaking) that he’s not really a bad person, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing to me. I’ve made the same mistake before, of not understanding how my seemingly innocent actions can hurt somebody who loves me. At least I could blame it on youth, he on the other hand is almost 30. He’ll understand one day, maybe when somebody breaks his heart.
I have the urge to run. Not in the cardio sense (things aren’t that bad!) – but to move abroad, surround myself with new places, new faces, new opportunities, NO memories. I don’t want him to contact me. I don’t want to know anything about his life without me. I don’t want to bump into him, his family, his friends. I don’t want to hear on the grapevine that he’s got a new girlfriend. I don’t even want to think about it let alone have to acknowledge it. I want to forget about how it feels to be with him, and how heavy it feels to be without him. After all, ignorance is bliss. And if I take myself away, maybe I can convince myself that I made it easy for him to move on because you know, out of sight – or in my case, out of country – out of mind… Maybe I can pretend that by going away I let him forget what we had, that I made it easy for him to move on out of choice, and that if I’d stuck around, maybe, he might have seen me one day and missed me, even only for a moment. If I stay I’m forced to face up to reality, and I just can’t see any silver lining in that right now. Ignorance is bliss (or slightly less painful, at least).
Despite my moaning I do think I’m slowly getting better, or maybe just better at distracting myself. But that’s still progress, right? Like ash in search of said, there’s good days and bad days. Maybe tomorrow will be a good day and I’ll stop comfort eating all the bread. Seriously I ate like an entire bakery today…
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