(no subject)
I havent let myself sit down and think about it, let alone put my emotions into words. When I start to I force myself to do something else, be somewhere else, in body and mind. Im utterly petrified to feel the intensity of them. why should I let myself feel that when nothing I can change the outcome of what was done.. nothing can elliviate it. Not being back with him, not being with someone else, nothing. i am paralyzed, unable to make any real choices for myself because everything i want i can not have, it was taken away from me. it was stolen and torn apart. they were the best parts of me. I am frozen in time pretending that the clock ticking doesn't mean that time is passing. I feel nothing most of the time, I simply let myself block it from my mind. I wouldn't say I forget it; I just pretend that it is not there. It's easier to do when I surround myself with blockers. I make it seem as if I am making it through and I am doing okay; i do not act but i do fight. There are no words for what this is. I could use words like heartbreak, betrayed, unwanted, unloved, bitter, resentful, and worthless, but none of that is what this is. I have felt all those before; this is different, this is more significant. I am not bitter, no, I do forgive, I just can not forget. I close my eyes and I'm there with them. I can see her touching him in ways that were only for me. I see him touching her in ways that made me feel alive and perfect. I close my eyes and I would rather die. It becomes my nightmares. I can replay every moment of it, as if it were me. I compare it, how he would make me feel, so perfect, so utterly flawless. There would be times that the feeling was so overwhelming that I would lay there with tears slowly and silently falling and drying on my lips. He let her have the best part of it for me. He ruined the best part of it for me. It was dirty, it was wrong, it was not me. I can not imagine letting someone see me that way, allowing someone touch me with such lust. What I felt is forever butchered and forgotten. The thought of it all makes me physically and emotionally sick. I'll lock myself in a porcolein room and turn on the tap as the pain seeps up my throat. I feel so sick, so dirty. I will wash myself clean, scrub my body till my skin is raw; but no matter how hard or how long i scrub it, i still feel unclean. I don't think I will ever feel clean again. The hardest part is not seeing it. The hardest part is knowing that he loved me during it, after it, and now. Knowing that in a matter of words that I would have him back. It makes me question really what is love then. To be able to do such an act, and yet not feel enough remorse to allow me the truth. Who can love someone like that. To look at me everyday, make love to me, fight me with lies, push me into a state of maddness just to hide the truth. Their should be no selfishness in love, especially with something so deep, something that was so pure to me.