blah....
do you ever feel like you need to talk or write but have no idea what needs to be said or written? all of a sudden I am not happy. I go from one extreme to the other. maybe I'm bi-polar. whatever I am, I don't want to be me anymore. I actually know where all this is coming from. It really won't make muuch sense to anyone but I need to write, to vent, so here I go.
3 weeks and 2 days ago, June 15th, I knew things were going wrong, and if they weren't, I made them turn that way. I freaked out. I was for sure Paul was tired of me, ready for me to be out of his life but that he was too nice to say or do anything to make this happen. I acted weird, I cried, I got drunk, I said things that probably never should have been said or perhaps should have been said in private. I regreted the words as soon as they passed my lips. I needed to get away, fast. everyone was smoking and I thought, maybe this could be my escape. so I took a hit. mistake number 2. I don't smoke, and for good reason. I get quiet. I don't say a word. I get paranoid. my mind races and I get scared. I felt myself start to become this way and I didn't want to be around people anymore. I got up, I went to Paul's room, and went to bed. I woke up a few hours later and he was lying next to me. I made a gesture that I probably have made a hundred times. I laid my hand across his chest. I felt him shudder. he laid still for a few mintes, moved my arm, got up, and went to the restroom. this happened 3 times. I gave up. I laid there for an hour or so, freaking out. all these thoughts, worries, fears, and scenarios ran through my mind. Again, I needed an escape. I got up, got dressed, and left without a word. mistake number 3. a few hours passed and I felt horrible. I sent him a text message that said I was sorry for the way I acted the night before and was sorry for leaving the way I did. He said we needed to talk. I said okay. I told him how much he meant to me and that I couldn't shake the feeling I had already screwed everything up. He said he was having his doubts about me but we just needed to talk. He didn't have time to talk to me right then but he would talk to me later. I panicked. I worried. I cried. WE finally talked around 1:30 am. By this time, I am so freaked out, so nervous and scared. I have been crying uncontrollably for hours. I probably don't have the whole conversation very clear in my head, but to me, this is how it played out. He was angry with me, he didn't think he could see himself with me in the long run. I felt attacked. He named off several things he didn't like about me. He said his parents weren't impressed with me. His friends didn't like me. I asked him not to give up on me just yet. I would try harder. He said he wasn't giving up on me but if things were the same in three weeks, then he just couldn't see sticking it out any longer. I said okay. possibly, mistake number four. all I could think about was that there was no way I would be able to change who I was in three weeks and I couldn't believe that I was even thinking about changing who I was to make someone else happy. My mind raced, and the tears fell. The tears won out and I feel asleep for a few hours. I woke up, and cried more. I knew it was over. I would never be able to change who I was in 3 weeks. What hurt the most was knowing he would change all these things about me and there wasn't a single thing I would ever want to change about him.
Its now saturday night. I am terrified to work with him, to look at him, to speak to him. I'm afraid I'm going to start crying at work. I see him, and I turn the other way. I keep busy. I run food, I run plates, I clean, I avoid him. he says a few things to me here and there, as if everything was fine. he leaves before I do and he writes me a note asking me to call him when I get off. I call him. He told me he would call when he got home. He gets drunk, passes out and doesn't call. he sends me a text at 3:30 in the morning sayng he was just now getting home and he will talk to me the next day. Sunday. Father's Day. we send a few messages in the morning and we make plans to watch the Mavs game that night.
I'm getting tired of writing. to make a long story not as long, its as if nothing ever happened. Like that conversation was never spoken. Sometimes I think maybe he was just extremely angry and didn't mean the things he said. But part of me is always wondering what he is thinking, especially when we aren't together.
Its the end end of the 3 weeks and I haven't talked to him today. It kind of makes me nervous. Wondering if he knows that the three weeks are up.
Its crazy how a single conversation can haunt you, take over your thoughts and fears.
How I wish I could erase different conversations that are haunting me.....
How I wish I had a bottle of hydrocodone right now....
3 weeks and 2 days ago, June 15th, I knew things were going wrong, and if they weren't, I made them turn that way. I freaked out. I was for sure Paul was tired of me, ready for me to be out of his life but that he was too nice to say or do anything to make this happen. I acted weird, I cried, I got drunk, I said things that probably never should have been said or perhaps should have been said in private. I regreted the words as soon as they passed my lips. I needed to get away, fast. everyone was smoking and I thought, maybe this could be my escape. so I took a hit. mistake number 2. I don't smoke, and for good reason. I get quiet. I don't say a word. I get paranoid. my mind races and I get scared. I felt myself start to become this way and I didn't want to be around people anymore. I got up, I went to Paul's room, and went to bed. I woke up a few hours later and he was lying next to me. I made a gesture that I probably have made a hundred times. I laid my hand across his chest. I felt him shudder. he laid still for a few mintes, moved my arm, got up, and went to the restroom. this happened 3 times. I gave up. I laid there for an hour or so, freaking out. all these thoughts, worries, fears, and scenarios ran through my mind. Again, I needed an escape. I got up, got dressed, and left without a word. mistake number 3. a few hours passed and I felt horrible. I sent him a text message that said I was sorry for the way I acted the night before and was sorry for leaving the way I did. He said we needed to talk. I said okay. I told him how much he meant to me and that I couldn't shake the feeling I had already screwed everything up. He said he was having his doubts about me but we just needed to talk. He didn't have time to talk to me right then but he would talk to me later. I panicked. I worried. I cried. WE finally talked around 1:30 am. By this time, I am so freaked out, so nervous and scared. I have been crying uncontrollably for hours. I probably don't have the whole conversation very clear in my head, but to me, this is how it played out. He was angry with me, he didn't think he could see himself with me in the long run. I felt attacked. He named off several things he didn't like about me. He said his parents weren't impressed with me. His friends didn't like me. I asked him not to give up on me just yet. I would try harder. He said he wasn't giving up on me but if things were the same in three weeks, then he just couldn't see sticking it out any longer. I said okay. possibly, mistake number four. all I could think about was that there was no way I would be able to change who I was in three weeks and I couldn't believe that I was even thinking about changing who I was to make someone else happy. My mind raced, and the tears fell. The tears won out and I feel asleep for a few hours. I woke up, and cried more. I knew it was over. I would never be able to change who I was in 3 weeks. What hurt the most was knowing he would change all these things about me and there wasn't a single thing I would ever want to change about him.
Its now saturday night. I am terrified to work with him, to look at him, to speak to him. I'm afraid I'm going to start crying at work. I see him, and I turn the other way. I keep busy. I run food, I run plates, I clean, I avoid him. he says a few things to me here and there, as if everything was fine. he leaves before I do and he writes me a note asking me to call him when I get off. I call him. He told me he would call when he got home. He gets drunk, passes out and doesn't call. he sends me a text at 3:30 in the morning sayng he was just now getting home and he will talk to me the next day. Sunday. Father's Day. we send a few messages in the morning and we make plans to watch the Mavs game that night.
I'm getting tired of writing. to make a long story not as long, its as if nothing ever happened. Like that conversation was never spoken. Sometimes I think maybe he was just extremely angry and didn't mean the things he said. But part of me is always wondering what he is thinking, especially when we aren't together.
Its the end end of the 3 weeks and I haven't talked to him today. It kind of makes me nervous. Wondering if he knows that the three weeks are up.
Its crazy how a single conversation can haunt you, take over your thoughts and fears.
How I wish I could erase different conversations that are haunting me.....
How I wish I had a bottle of hydrocodone right now....