(no subject)
I'm mad at myself because I miss John. I'm really, really sad today; and I'm really down on myself. It may just be the weather. Part of it is thinking about moving and knowing that when I move away, John and I will be over. I need to move. It's the best thing I can do for myself. But I'm so sad.
And John and I probably won't ever be anything. And it's time I put this part of my life, with all of its sadness and pain, to an end and move on.
But then I picture his face. It's a face I love so much. And his twinkling eyes. I love him so much. I love his hands and the way they feel when they feel when hold my hands, when they press my body into his. I love the way his fingers feel when they brush against my skin.
And I love his calm kindness. I love when he's rational. I love when he's tough but still takes care of me. I love when he "gets it." I miss these things when they disappear because he's around me too long.
He only knows how to break my heart or make it race.
I'm so sad. I'm tired of being so sad. Why do I keep doing this to myself? I guess that's what happens when I love someone. I don't know restrict my love for someone so that I only love them to the extent just before it hurts. If I care for someone, it always hurts a little; I experience the love and loss at the same time, somehow. With friends, with family, with John. Especially with John.
I have to end this. I'm crying at work.
And John and I probably won't ever be anything. And it's time I put this part of my life, with all of its sadness and pain, to an end and move on.
But then I picture his face. It's a face I love so much. And his twinkling eyes. I love him so much. I love his hands and the way they feel when they feel when hold my hands, when they press my body into his. I love the way his fingers feel when they brush against my skin.
And I love his calm kindness. I love when he's rational. I love when he's tough but still takes care of me. I love when he "gets it." I miss these things when they disappear because he's around me too long.
He only knows how to break my heart or make it race.
I'm so sad. I'm tired of being so sad. Why do I keep doing this to myself? I guess that's what happens when I love someone. I don't know restrict my love for someone so that I only love them to the extent just before it hurts. If I care for someone, it always hurts a little; I experience the love and loss at the same time, somehow. With friends, with family, with John. Especially with John.
I have to end this. I'm crying at work.