(no subject)
I saw him this morning. He drove right past me as I was walking to my bustop. I'm pretty sure he saw me to, it seemed like he slowed down.
Maybe I should have seen this coming. I dreamt of him all night and woke up exhausted and heavy.
I'm filled with misery and disgust for myself, with my weakness, with my pain, with all my inadequacies. My inability to move past what is lost.
I could give you ten reasons that he wasn't good for us ... but none of them make me feel any better about him being gone. I could write a mini-novel on how what he did to us was wrong and immature and hateful ... but my heart still longs for him to stand next to me and tell me he still loves me and that he's sorry. That he said and did things because he wasn't in his right mind.
I hear him whisper "I love you" in my ear at night only to have that memory smashed away by all the cruel things he said to me on the phone after he left.
And now ... now i've seen him ... 56 days later and I feel the earthquake beneath me , my emotions crashing in on me. I re-live the night he first kissed me, and the moment I listened to his voicemail telling me he was leaving us all at the same time. Like a junkyard pile, everything connected and jumbled in on eachother. I hear him tell me i'm a failure. I hear him blast me for not doing enough for him or his family and then turn around and apologize for his mother being repeatedly unkind to me when I was trying so hard.
Is this what insanity feel like? To be pulled in every direction at once and feel youself slip under the crashing waves , not wanting to pull yourself out , but just to embrace that soft slow sleep forever? To give up and drift away to a place where you can't feel your heart falling apart in a million jagged little peices
No, I guess I know it's not insanity or an unbalanced mind. It's grief, it's loss, it's the death of beautiful dream I thought was real.
But really, at the center of it all. It's the death of me.
Maybe I should have seen this coming. I dreamt of him all night and woke up exhausted and heavy.
I'm filled with misery and disgust for myself, with my weakness, with my pain, with all my inadequacies. My inability to move past what is lost.
I could give you ten reasons that he wasn't good for us ... but none of them make me feel any better about him being gone. I could write a mini-novel on how what he did to us was wrong and immature and hateful ... but my heart still longs for him to stand next to me and tell me he still loves me and that he's sorry. That he said and did things because he wasn't in his right mind.
I hear him whisper "I love you" in my ear at night only to have that memory smashed away by all the cruel things he said to me on the phone after he left.
And now ... now i've seen him ... 56 days later and I feel the earthquake beneath me , my emotions crashing in on me. I re-live the night he first kissed me, and the moment I listened to his voicemail telling me he was leaving us all at the same time. Like a junkyard pile, everything connected and jumbled in on eachother. I hear him tell me i'm a failure. I hear him blast me for not doing enough for him or his family and then turn around and apologize for his mother being repeatedly unkind to me when I was trying so hard.
Is this what insanity feel like? To be pulled in every direction at once and feel youself slip under the crashing waves , not wanting to pull yourself out , but just to embrace that soft slow sleep forever? To give up and drift away to a place where you can't feel your heart falling apart in a million jagged little peices
No, I guess I know it's not insanity or an unbalanced mind. It's grief, it's loss, it's the death of beautiful dream I thought was real.
But really, at the center of it all. It's the death of me.