Love Stinks...yeah, yeah...
I hate to have to admit these things, but if I don't, they'll consume me. I have something I have been holding in much too long: I started falling out of love with Shawn long ago, like the end of June. I still loved him wholeheartedly, but I was no longer "in love" with him. I composed some lines in my phone one day when we went to one of his friend's houses to change the rotors on his brother's car. I don't remember all of them verbatim, and I'm much to lazy to find that phone and reiterate them here. I remember the gist of it being: "why do I sacrifice my pleasure for pain to give you pleasure?". Of course I was referring to sex with him. At that point in our relationship, sex was more painful than pleasureful for me, he had given up the gentleness that had graced the beginning of our bliss. I couldn't admit it to him, for fear he would hate himself for it. I suppose I am just as guilty as him for the crime of omission. I felt extreme guilt for not telling him, though I did in the days of confession preceding our break-up.
So why then, am I still awake at this hour? I can't sleep, of course. I'm deathly tired, but when I lay down, close my eyes and get comfortable, and lay a scene of pleasantness before my mind to sleep; I can think of nothing but Shawn and all the things I should have said. When I think of all the happy times which could have so easily not been by my saying what was really on my mind, I become filled with hatred, and guilt. The hatred of course, not only for myself and my omission, but for him for lying as well. I try so hard to be an honest person, and hate myself terribly for lying or not speaking my true feelings, at the time of want, and later even more so. And I know that a part of me will always love Shawn, though a much larger part of me hates him more than I have hated anyone (except Adam), and yet--he is still my first conscious thought upon waking. He is still the only thing I can think about when I lay down to sleep. I am filled with such rage when trying to succumb to dreams, that I am tormented all through the night by visions of pain, misery, and nightmares I cannot recall upon waking. Then I wake, think of him, reach for him; then open my eyes and remember he is no longer mine.
It makes no sense that here, nearly four months later, after I have shown such progress, that I would be back where I was after the crime. I have such a severe dislike for depression, and I always bounce back, but I am bothered by this bout of darkness. I hate that he has affected me so, and that he still continues to affect me. He is a wicked and horrid soul, if he even possesses a soul. I hate him so much, but yet, I think of him constantly. I want to be able to move on, and I thought I had. If I have, why then is he constantly on my mind? I have no answer to this question. My next question being simply: Why did I stay with him when I knew I had fallen out of love with him?
Here's how the story should have played out that day of revelation;
First, what actually happened:
I was sitting on the ground, holding the dog's leash, trying to keep her calm and out of the way so the boys could switch the rotors. She was driving me bonkers, and Shawn was so totally immersed in what he was doing, he paid me no attention. Only when I asked a question would he acknowledge my presence. I was texting Jenni, Biz, and Scott. (Up until now, this all happened. Now comes the part I wish to change.)
What SHOULD have happened next:
I ask Jenni if she is at "home", meaning Mitch's. She says yes, I tell her how near I am, and leave the dog with Shawn, saying I want to take a walk. I go to Mitch's and have Jenni take me back to Shawn's and gather my things, all of them. Including the photographs I gave him (those I honestly wish I had taken, rather than stupidly doing him a favor and leaving them behind).
I wish that was what I did that day, rather than composing lines about the darkness growing in me. It would have been all too easy to do it, instead of repeatedly thinking about it, tearing myself apart doing so. I know that is the reason I was so cut up upon our separation, I had guilt about not having done it myself. He was so important to me for so long, I didn't want to let him go. He could have been the one, had I let him be. Or had he strived to be such. He never worked for the renewal of trust he shattered upon our first parting and I regret ever giving him the chance, though I know in my heart, I would regret even more never having given it.
And so I leave off with an agitated mind, a broken soul, and an enraged heart. I know not what the future holds, but I shall try to look forward, and not back, with a hopeful heart. I don't need a man to complete me, or make me happy, but a part of me wants a family one day.
With a heavy heart, your friend.
So why then, am I still awake at this hour? I can't sleep, of course. I'm deathly tired, but when I lay down, close my eyes and get comfortable, and lay a scene of pleasantness before my mind to sleep; I can think of nothing but Shawn and all the things I should have said. When I think of all the happy times which could have so easily not been by my saying what was really on my mind, I become filled with hatred, and guilt. The hatred of course, not only for myself and my omission, but for him for lying as well. I try so hard to be an honest person, and hate myself terribly for lying or not speaking my true feelings, at the time of want, and later even more so. And I know that a part of me will always love Shawn, though a much larger part of me hates him more than I have hated anyone (except Adam), and yet--he is still my first conscious thought upon waking. He is still the only thing I can think about when I lay down to sleep. I am filled with such rage when trying to succumb to dreams, that I am tormented all through the night by visions of pain, misery, and nightmares I cannot recall upon waking. Then I wake, think of him, reach for him; then open my eyes and remember he is no longer mine.
It makes no sense that here, nearly four months later, after I have shown such progress, that I would be back where I was after the crime. I have such a severe dislike for depression, and I always bounce back, but I am bothered by this bout of darkness. I hate that he has affected me so, and that he still continues to affect me. He is a wicked and horrid soul, if he even possesses a soul. I hate him so much, but yet, I think of him constantly. I want to be able to move on, and I thought I had. If I have, why then is he constantly on my mind? I have no answer to this question. My next question being simply: Why did I stay with him when I knew I had fallen out of love with him?
Here's how the story should have played out that day of revelation;
First, what actually happened:
I was sitting on the ground, holding the dog's leash, trying to keep her calm and out of the way so the boys could switch the rotors. She was driving me bonkers, and Shawn was so totally immersed in what he was doing, he paid me no attention. Only when I asked a question would he acknowledge my presence. I was texting Jenni, Biz, and Scott. (Up until now, this all happened. Now comes the part I wish to change.)
What SHOULD have happened next:
I ask Jenni if she is at "home", meaning Mitch's. She says yes, I tell her how near I am, and leave the dog with Shawn, saying I want to take a walk. I go to Mitch's and have Jenni take me back to Shawn's and gather my things, all of them. Including the photographs I gave him (those I honestly wish I had taken, rather than stupidly doing him a favor and leaving them behind).
I wish that was what I did that day, rather than composing lines about the darkness growing in me. It would have been all too easy to do it, instead of repeatedly thinking about it, tearing myself apart doing so. I know that is the reason I was so cut up upon our separation, I had guilt about not having done it myself. He was so important to me for so long, I didn't want to let him go. He could have been the one, had I let him be. Or had he strived to be such. He never worked for the renewal of trust he shattered upon our first parting and I regret ever giving him the chance, though I know in my heart, I would regret even more never having given it.
And so I leave off with an agitated mind, a broken soul, and an enraged heart. I know not what the future holds, but I shall try to look forward, and not back, with a hopeful heart. I don't need a man to complete me, or make me happy, but a part of me wants a family one day.
With a heavy heart, your friend.