(no subject)
Bad things happen in threes. One: your pap showed some precancerous lesions. Two: you have HPV. Three: you can no longer be with the guy you want. The first two happened a while ago, and I've more or less come to terms with the implications of the first, I'm struggling with the second, and I had to flee the country to deal with the third. Which, it turns out, didn't help.
I've known pretty much since the beginning that Noah and I wouldn't last. And I tried to put on my brave face and tell the world that it was cool, because I knew what was going on from the beginning. But I think he has a knack for making people fall in love with him, and it's so easy for me to do that on my own. But I tried to hold on because I told myself it made me feel good - and sometimes it did, when we were together and it was actually just the two of us; no texting, not computer. I felt like someone actually cared about me - and maybe he did, but it obviously meant something different to me.
So how do you deal with the fact that you're in love with someone who will never feel the same way? Who always seems to choose other women? You ask him, calmly, to leave your life. And then you go to Cuba. Only Cuba didn't help, it seems. I felt ok there - I only thought about it a little; I thought I'd be a mess the first night but I didn't even cry. But I think I was able to forget about it all because it wasn't real life. Real life stopped happening for a bit. But we started packing and a feeling of dread settled into the pit of my stomach and I had to force myself not to cry. Going home made it real.
He cleaned the house. He cleaned my room. There was a note on the bed, welcoming me home, telling me the cats' claws were clipped and there were some mashed potatoes in the fridge. "Take care of yourself," it said. And I realized it had happened. He'd left my life, just like I asked, without any kind of fight. I felt like someone had punched me. Here's the hardest thing I've ever done, and he's just... OK with it. He's gone quietly. I cried for a few hours and then forced myself to stop because it's hard to sleep when you can't breathe. And the saddest thing (sad pathetic, not sad boo hoo) is that, when I realized he still had my DS (unless he's hidden it somwehere), I was so excited to know that he'd have to come here again. I'd get to see him.
Because the thing is, I want to keep him around, so badly, but I know it's the worst thing I can do to myself. I can't deal with it anymore; I fell in too deep and it's never going to get better. He's always going to love someone else and I I'll fall by the wayside. When I found out he was moving in with Meghan, I realized that we actually had a concrete deadline. I knew it was going to end there. So I tried to make myself feel better by turning it into my choice. I asked him to leave. I cut it off. But I never wanted that, not even a little. I feel like I've been backed into a corner, so I did the only thing I could. I got out. And I'm not happy about it. I don't feel better or relieved in any way. I feel like crap. I feel like no one will ever love me and no one cares enough to try to hold onto me. I feel like I'm going to die alone, surrounded by cats.
And I feel so stupid for letting it get this far. For ever letting it happen in the first place. Because I did know the score, and I knew it would end this way eventually. And I felt myself getting more attached and I let it happen. I knew how I felt back in January but I still let him come back because I wanted so badly to believe him when he said he was sorry, and that it wouldn't happen again. I feel stupid for believing him when he explained all the reasons why he does the things he does, why he wants a relationship but won't let himself have one. For believing that he would stick to that when the time came. I feel stupid and worhtless and unloveable - because he's planning his little life with someone else. I'm the thing that didn't fit. And I knew it the whole time.
I wish, so badly now, that I'd actually applied to school. I want to leave here. I want to be somewhere else with people I don't know. I want my life to be different; something I can feel good about. I don't want to feel like I've made several of the worst choices of my life.
I've known pretty much since the beginning that Noah and I wouldn't last. And I tried to put on my brave face and tell the world that it was cool, because I knew what was going on from the beginning. But I think he has a knack for making people fall in love with him, and it's so easy for me to do that on my own. But I tried to hold on because I told myself it made me feel good - and sometimes it did, when we were together and it was actually just the two of us; no texting, not computer. I felt like someone actually cared about me - and maybe he did, but it obviously meant something different to me.
So how do you deal with the fact that you're in love with someone who will never feel the same way? Who always seems to choose other women? You ask him, calmly, to leave your life. And then you go to Cuba. Only Cuba didn't help, it seems. I felt ok there - I only thought about it a little; I thought I'd be a mess the first night but I didn't even cry. But I think I was able to forget about it all because it wasn't real life. Real life stopped happening for a bit. But we started packing and a feeling of dread settled into the pit of my stomach and I had to force myself not to cry. Going home made it real.
He cleaned the house. He cleaned my room. There was a note on the bed, welcoming me home, telling me the cats' claws were clipped and there were some mashed potatoes in the fridge. "Take care of yourself," it said. And I realized it had happened. He'd left my life, just like I asked, without any kind of fight. I felt like someone had punched me. Here's the hardest thing I've ever done, and he's just... OK with it. He's gone quietly. I cried for a few hours and then forced myself to stop because it's hard to sleep when you can't breathe. And the saddest thing (sad pathetic, not sad boo hoo) is that, when I realized he still had my DS (unless he's hidden it somwehere), I was so excited to know that he'd have to come here again. I'd get to see him.
Because the thing is, I want to keep him around, so badly, but I know it's the worst thing I can do to myself. I can't deal with it anymore; I fell in too deep and it's never going to get better. He's always going to love someone else and I I'll fall by the wayside. When I found out he was moving in with Meghan, I realized that we actually had a concrete deadline. I knew it was going to end there. So I tried to make myself feel better by turning it into my choice. I asked him to leave. I cut it off. But I never wanted that, not even a little. I feel like I've been backed into a corner, so I did the only thing I could. I got out. And I'm not happy about it. I don't feel better or relieved in any way. I feel like crap. I feel like no one will ever love me and no one cares enough to try to hold onto me. I feel like I'm going to die alone, surrounded by cats.
And I feel so stupid for letting it get this far. For ever letting it happen in the first place. Because I did know the score, and I knew it would end this way eventually. And I felt myself getting more attached and I let it happen. I knew how I felt back in January but I still let him come back because I wanted so badly to believe him when he said he was sorry, and that it wouldn't happen again. I feel stupid for believing him when he explained all the reasons why he does the things he does, why he wants a relationship but won't let himself have one. For believing that he would stick to that when the time came. I feel stupid and worhtless and unloveable - because he's planning his little life with someone else. I'm the thing that didn't fit. And I knew it the whole time.
I wish, so badly now, that I'd actually applied to school. I want to leave here. I want to be somewhere else with people I don't know. I want my life to be different; something I can feel good about. I don't want to feel like I've made several of the worst choices of my life.