A last posting on here
I've decided to make this my last post on here. Truthfully, I haven't been on LiveJournal in a very long time.
I originally joined LiveJournal because someone wanted me to read their thoughts. That girl and I eventually started dating, and unfortunately for me, I fell quite in love with this girl. I wish I could say it was one of those kinds when, after its over, you get over it in a few months. Unfortunately, it wasn't. In part because of other things I was dealing with, I had time to do some serious soul-searching in the months before the breakup, and I realized that I wanted to spend my life with her.
Obviously, that didn't happen.
It's been about three years, and I've changed many things in my life, and I am doing a lot better now. Not everything is better; in three years time, my back has not once, for a moment, stopped feeling like its literally on fire in this one part. I'm over and past the relationship, but once in a while... I remember. Something catches my memory, and in those memories I see her again, and my breath catches just like it did every time I saw her. I remember the feel of her hand on mine, her lips on mine, the smell of her hair and the touch of her body, and it all comes rushing back to me, for just a few moments.
Then I remember the end, and the lies, and the pain, and my soul screams inside me. Someday, I hope that it ends, but I'm not holding my breath on that one. What has changed, is that I am not angry anymore. The rage I felt has finally quieted, and I've realized everything I lost as a slave to that anger. When you erect a wall around yourself, you are alone even in a crowd. When you tear down the wall, sometimes you find that everyone has left.
It is frightening, being without that barrier, that cushion between myself and the very real physical pain. The rage blocked the nightmares, for the most part. It blocked the pain. It shielded me from the emotions of others, something I find far too easy to see and know, even just walking around in public. Now lacking that, I'm having to return to my older methods. Meditation, focus, finding a purpose beyond those sensations, and using the abilities that I have for the sake of others who need me, and for the sake of my own happiness.
Part of this has been closing this final chapter. This journal was solely a way to be closer to her, and it is truly no longer necessary; everyone I know from here, I also know on Facebook and in person. One might question why I even am writing this. The reason is simple:
Because I know you are reading this, Jill.
Someday, I know you will look up this old journal. You're too curious, you always have been, and you can never just let something completely go. I worked very hard to put out a last message before this as my standing message. The words, "I am dead to you" were very specifically chosen. I knew they'd hurt you. You probably thought I did that deliberately, and you were right. However, my reason is probably not what you think. I didn't do it because I hate you. I did it because I needed you to hate me.
If you hated me, I hoped you could get strong enough to help yourself. If you hated me, I hoped you would be able keep yourself from going back down the same path that hurt us both so much. And just as importantly, if you hated me, you wouldn't come back. Because I couldn't risk you coming back, or contacting me, or anything.
I needed you to hate me, because no matter how angry I got, or how hurt I felt, I couldn't make myself hate you. I tried. Oh God, I tried... But I couldn't do it. I truly can't see a day when I will be able to talk with you and not want the girl I fell for back. But you are not, and never will be, that girl again. Even if, by some bizarre twist of fate, you came back to me, I could never trust you again. So I needed you to stay away from me at all costs, for as long as humanly possible, because even I couldn't just forget a decade of friendship, two years of dating, and of loving you.
I don't expect forgiveness. All I hope is that, when you finally do read this, you understand why I did what I did.
Goodbye, Livejournal, and goodbye reader. I think I know who you still are.
I originally joined LiveJournal because someone wanted me to read their thoughts. That girl and I eventually started dating, and unfortunately for me, I fell quite in love with this girl. I wish I could say it was one of those kinds when, after its over, you get over it in a few months. Unfortunately, it wasn't. In part because of other things I was dealing with, I had time to do some serious soul-searching in the months before the breakup, and I realized that I wanted to spend my life with her.
Obviously, that didn't happen.
It's been about three years, and I've changed many things in my life, and I am doing a lot better now. Not everything is better; in three years time, my back has not once, for a moment, stopped feeling like its literally on fire in this one part. I'm over and past the relationship, but once in a while... I remember. Something catches my memory, and in those memories I see her again, and my breath catches just like it did every time I saw her. I remember the feel of her hand on mine, her lips on mine, the smell of her hair and the touch of her body, and it all comes rushing back to me, for just a few moments.
Then I remember the end, and the lies, and the pain, and my soul screams inside me. Someday, I hope that it ends, but I'm not holding my breath on that one. What has changed, is that I am not angry anymore. The rage I felt has finally quieted, and I've realized everything I lost as a slave to that anger. When you erect a wall around yourself, you are alone even in a crowd. When you tear down the wall, sometimes you find that everyone has left.
It is frightening, being without that barrier, that cushion between myself and the very real physical pain. The rage blocked the nightmares, for the most part. It blocked the pain. It shielded me from the emotions of others, something I find far too easy to see and know, even just walking around in public. Now lacking that, I'm having to return to my older methods. Meditation, focus, finding a purpose beyond those sensations, and using the abilities that I have for the sake of others who need me, and for the sake of my own happiness.
Part of this has been closing this final chapter. This journal was solely a way to be closer to her, and it is truly no longer necessary; everyone I know from here, I also know on Facebook and in person. One might question why I even am writing this. The reason is simple:
Because I know you are reading this, Jill.
Someday, I know you will look up this old journal. You're too curious, you always have been, and you can never just let something completely go. I worked very hard to put out a last message before this as my standing message. The words, "I am dead to you" were very specifically chosen. I knew they'd hurt you. You probably thought I did that deliberately, and you were right. However, my reason is probably not what you think. I didn't do it because I hate you. I did it because I needed you to hate me.
If you hated me, I hoped you could get strong enough to help yourself. If you hated me, I hoped you would be able keep yourself from going back down the same path that hurt us both so much. And just as importantly, if you hated me, you wouldn't come back. Because I couldn't risk you coming back, or contacting me, or anything.
I needed you to hate me, because no matter how angry I got, or how hurt I felt, I couldn't make myself hate you. I tried. Oh God, I tried... But I couldn't do it. I truly can't see a day when I will be able to talk with you and not want the girl I fell for back. But you are not, and never will be, that girl again. Even if, by some bizarre twist of fate, you came back to me, I could never trust you again. So I needed you to stay away from me at all costs, for as long as humanly possible, because even I couldn't just forget a decade of friendship, two years of dating, and of loving you.
I don't expect forgiveness. All I hope is that, when you finally do read this, you understand why I did what I did.
Goodbye, Livejournal, and goodbye reader. I think I know who you still are.