longest. entry. ever.
I’m really sorry, guys. The emo is gonna be pretty potent for a while asdfghjkl;.
To be honest, I feel everything but angry. Sad, yes. Hurt, yes. Disappointed, yes. Vindictive and petty, yes and yes. Anxious, most definitely. Anger is so much easier for me to deal with. It’s so easy to like…scream and rage and throw shit and say terrible things. It’s so much more difficult to be sad, and last night, I pretty much felt like it would never be sunny again.
I saw it coming from a mile away, but I still feel like I got broadsided. Hit by a bus, tossed into a ditch, and bitten a few times by an alligator. The difference is that alligators are also easier to deal with.
The worst part is that it was done so gently and…caringly. And I fucking hated it. I almost wanted it to be harsh and brutal and I almost wished that we’d fought and yelled at each other and said stuff that we didn’t mean. It would be easier to be angry that way.
Logically, I know that it’s pretty much his fault. Yeah, I am not the most communicative of beasts, and I’m unbelievably shy, and it’s hard as hell for me to expose my vulnerabilities. The more I want to trust someone and the better I want them to think of me, the more terrified showing those weak spots makes me. That’s probably what I’m doing right now. I’m standing straight and talking and smiling and laughing, and it’s not fake. But I’m still doing that to protect myself. Being a toughass means that I don’t have to see pity and I don’t have to worry so much. winterkill knows me better than that and I love her for it.
Even now, I don’t think we even did the whole break up thing properly. I was expecting to not want to see his face ever again or at least for a few days, and I expected him to run away and hide from me. Instead, we sat there and spoke candidly (once I could do so without sobbing or beaning him in the head with something), and then in a moment of silence, our stomachs growled, and we just stared at each other and laughed hysterically.
We ended up going out to eat together and it felt…strangely normal.
I didn’t want to break up with him. To be honest, that was the last thing in the world that I wanted. But I wanted to break up with the tension I sometimes felt, the never knowing how he felt, the anxiety I’d work myself up into, and the knowledge that he’d never be able to tell me what he wanted or needed because he didn’t know himself. I thought that I could get around those things by trying harder, by being as honest as I could, and doing my best.
I guess some things just don’t work.
I’m sad. I’m really, really, REALLY sad, and I almost don’t know how to express it properly. But it makes me feel a little better in the fact that I feel I can still be normal with him. That we can still be friends, that I’m still allowed to hug him, that I can still laugh with him. That I can still treasure him as one of my best friends, even if the dating thing might not have worked out. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe I SHOULD want him more dead than I do. But even though the selfish parts of me are vindictive and let me indulge in the occasional potshot at his ineptitude to his face, and the sensitive parts of me are in agony, the rest of me has to be grateful that even if I can’t date him, he can still be someone precious to me.
Samasu wants to shoot him in the face, and I don’t blame her for it. I think Chris wants to take a 2x4 to his head and give him a few good whacks, and I also don’t blame him. But…there are worse ways to break up. He didn’t play me, didn’t cheat on me, and didn’t lie to me other than the fact that he didn’t do it sooner. I didn’t egg his car, stab him, or cut off his penis in a case of Lorena Bobbitt time.
I baked cookies last night, and took red icing to them. I wrote onto them “trust”, “forgiveness”, and “change”, and ate one of each. Maybe it’s a little stupid, but I can’t but feel that maybe, somehow those words can stay with me, and if I can remember the fact that if I could write them when I felt so low, that I can feel them.
To be honest, I feel everything but angry. Sad, yes. Hurt, yes. Disappointed, yes. Vindictive and petty, yes and yes. Anxious, most definitely. Anger is so much easier for me to deal with. It’s so easy to like…scream and rage and throw shit and say terrible things. It’s so much more difficult to be sad, and last night, I pretty much felt like it would never be sunny again.
I saw it coming from a mile away, but I still feel like I got broadsided. Hit by a bus, tossed into a ditch, and bitten a few times by an alligator. The difference is that alligators are also easier to deal with.
The worst part is that it was done so gently and…caringly. And I fucking hated it. I almost wanted it to be harsh and brutal and I almost wished that we’d fought and yelled at each other and said stuff that we didn’t mean. It would be easier to be angry that way.
Logically, I know that it’s pretty much his fault. Yeah, I am not the most communicative of beasts, and I’m unbelievably shy, and it’s hard as hell for me to expose my vulnerabilities. The more I want to trust someone and the better I want them to think of me, the more terrified showing those weak spots makes me. That’s probably what I’m doing right now. I’m standing straight and talking and smiling and laughing, and it’s not fake. But I’m still doing that to protect myself. Being a toughass means that I don’t have to see pity and I don’t have to worry so much. winterkill knows me better than that and I love her for it.
Even now, I don’t think we even did the whole break up thing properly. I was expecting to not want to see his face ever again or at least for a few days, and I expected him to run away and hide from me. Instead, we sat there and spoke candidly (once I could do so without sobbing or beaning him in the head with something), and then in a moment of silence, our stomachs growled, and we just stared at each other and laughed hysterically.
We ended up going out to eat together and it felt…strangely normal.
I didn’t want to break up with him. To be honest, that was the last thing in the world that I wanted. But I wanted to break up with the tension I sometimes felt, the never knowing how he felt, the anxiety I’d work myself up into, and the knowledge that he’d never be able to tell me what he wanted or needed because he didn’t know himself. I thought that I could get around those things by trying harder, by being as honest as I could, and doing my best.
I guess some things just don’t work.
I’m sad. I’m really, really, REALLY sad, and I almost don’t know how to express it properly. But it makes me feel a little better in the fact that I feel I can still be normal with him. That we can still be friends, that I’m still allowed to hug him, that I can still laugh with him. That I can still treasure him as one of my best friends, even if the dating thing might not have worked out. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe I SHOULD want him more dead than I do. But even though the selfish parts of me are vindictive and let me indulge in the occasional potshot at his ineptitude to his face, and the sensitive parts of me are in agony, the rest of me has to be grateful that even if I can’t date him, he can still be someone precious to me.
Samasu wants to shoot him in the face, and I don’t blame her for it. I think Chris wants to take a 2x4 to his head and give him a few good whacks, and I also don’t blame him. But…there are worse ways to break up. He didn’t play me, didn’t cheat on me, and didn’t lie to me other than the fact that he didn’t do it sooner. I didn’t egg his car, stab him, or cut off his penis in a case of Lorena Bobbitt time.
I baked cookies last night, and took red icing to them. I wrote onto them “trust”, “forgiveness”, and “change”, and ate one of each. Maybe it’s a little stupid, but I can’t but feel that maybe, somehow those words can stay with me, and if I can remember the fact that if I could write them when I felt so low, that I can feel them.