fuckkt
so screw this.
I don't like to think of him.
I don't like how unsafe I feel when the idea of communicating with him pops in my head; like a weakness.
I feel unstable, ungrounded, and I have the worst headache I could ever imagine.
sometimes I think I haven't made any progression. I know I have, but it feels as like I haven't.
now to sleep. if I can.
several hours later
I have made progress. I feel it now. I feel the distance between us and while I feel sad that he doesn't see it, I am over this canyon and he is still rolling around in the bottom. I can't help that my mental health is better than his; it always was. That was the problem. He couldn't see how to dig himself out of his holes and I was all the time trying to fill them in.
I never could. I realized that after so much time.
And it wasn't that he cheated on me a month after my dad died, it wasn't that he was always checking out other women in front of me, it wasn't that he was brusque at times; I am too.
It's just that it was never easy, it was always hard for me, it was always his sadness and my inadequacy. It was him making me feel bad, stretching his vibrant tangles of jellyfish/fungus manipulative tendrils into my life and changing the way I was. His anger fed my despair. His sadness hollowed out my mind. His lack of progression halted my evolution.
He doesn't realize. He didn't realize. He said "we never gave it a fair chance", but I did. I gave it an entire extra year of chances. I stayed way longer than I should have. I stayed hoping and wishing that things would get better. And when we broke up, that's why I went back 3 times. I was praying in my most atheist of hearts that things would change, like the dream that I had where he went into the hospital and then was healed of all his trauma. But I don't think all people have the capacity for change, and he certainly does not.
I'm riding this train for good, I am not fucking going backwards anymore, that is derailment.
and that is fucking murder/suicide.
[i realized how much i'd checked out from the whole situation while we were together when I was at the dentist and i realized that my wisdom teeth had been removed in 2008, not 2009 and that that entire time we were in California, I hated him sooo much and just resented him for not taking care of me at all when my teeth were hurt, for leaving me behind on the walk and telling his sister a really inappropriate story about us and the first time I said I love you to him. And that was a year before I left. Before i moved and the day that i explained to him curtly that he wasn't allowed to talk to me in front of my family the way he talked to me privately. before he hit the side of my car and i was terrified, before he moved out (a week before we broke up) before we moved into that terrible apartment that I am so glad i never have to go back inside of. before so many petty fights and arguments, and the one "breakup."]
GET YOUR MANIPULATIVE SLIME MOLDS OUT OF MY LIFE
BY ROUTE OF MY FRIENDS'
LIVES AND DON'T
EVER
EVER
EVER FUCKING COME BACK AGAIN.
So beautful and deadly. A fitting metaphor for such a chameleon of a human.
I've got my billycat to kiss and snuggle and a babycake to nibble on. Life is unbelievable. Life has no obligation to be easy. But I feel obliged to thank my lucky stars I'm not in a worse position than I am; I know it can always get worse and that is why I am an optimist.
I don't like to think of him.
I don't like how unsafe I feel when the idea of communicating with him pops in my head; like a weakness.
I feel unstable, ungrounded, and I have the worst headache I could ever imagine.
sometimes I think I haven't made any progression. I know I have, but it feels as like I haven't.
now to sleep. if I can.
several hours later
I have made progress. I feel it now. I feel the distance between us and while I feel sad that he doesn't see it, I am over this canyon and he is still rolling around in the bottom. I can't help that my mental health is better than his; it always was. That was the problem. He couldn't see how to dig himself out of his holes and I was all the time trying to fill them in.
I never could. I realized that after so much time.
And it wasn't that he cheated on me a month after my dad died, it wasn't that he was always checking out other women in front of me, it wasn't that he was brusque at times; I am too.
It's just that it was never easy, it was always hard for me, it was always his sadness and my inadequacy. It was him making me feel bad, stretching his vibrant tangles of jellyfish/fungus manipulative tendrils into my life and changing the way I was. His anger fed my despair. His sadness hollowed out my mind. His lack of progression halted my evolution.
He doesn't realize. He didn't realize. He said "we never gave it a fair chance", but I did. I gave it an entire extra year of chances. I stayed way longer than I should have. I stayed hoping and wishing that things would get better. And when we broke up, that's why I went back 3 times. I was praying in my most atheist of hearts that things would change, like the dream that I had where he went into the hospital and then was healed of all his trauma. But I don't think all people have the capacity for change, and he certainly does not.
I'm riding this train for good, I am not fucking going backwards anymore, that is derailment.
and that is fucking murder/suicide.
[i realized how much i'd checked out from the whole situation while we were together when I was at the dentist and i realized that my wisdom teeth had been removed in 2008, not 2009 and that that entire time we were in California, I hated him sooo much and just resented him for not taking care of me at all when my teeth were hurt, for leaving me behind on the walk and telling his sister a really inappropriate story about us and the first time I said I love you to him. And that was a year before I left. Before i moved and the day that i explained to him curtly that he wasn't allowed to talk to me in front of my family the way he talked to me privately. before he hit the side of my car and i was terrified, before he moved out (a week before we broke up) before we moved into that terrible apartment that I am so glad i never have to go back inside of. before so many petty fights and arguments, and the one "breakup."]
GET YOUR MANIPULATIVE SLIME MOLDS OUT OF MY LIFE
BY ROUTE OF MY FRIENDS'
LIVES AND DON'T
EVER
EVER
EVER FUCKING COME BACK AGAIN.
Click to viewSo beautful and deadly. A fitting metaphor for such a chameleon of a human.
I've got my billycat to kiss and snuggle and a babycake to nibble on. Life is unbelievable. Life has no obligation to be easy. But I feel obliged to thank my lucky stars I'm not in a worse position than I am; I know it can always get worse and that is why I am an optimist.