Sep 08, 2010 20:30
My boyfriend, who I've been with for almost two years now, just broke up with me over a series of text messages. This isn't the problem; most of our communication outside of physical conversation was over text message. We got together over a series of text messages, so there's a certain symmetry to it.
He was also my first boyfriend ever. I loved him. I still love him. But I'm the one who fucked up. I fail at replying to texts in a timely fashion, and so our conversation over summer break has been fairly sparse. It's the second day of my junior year of high school, and I don't know. I suppose it's a good thing. I mean, I can't expect him to just take it when I fuck things up. If he's not happy, there's no point to having a relationship. I know that. I don't even feel properly betrayed about the whole thing -- I think part of me must have seen it coming. I think that's the worst part. I blame myself, and it's not even the stupid self-blame that doesn't add up. It's really my fault. I can't blame him, and I don't even want to. I couldn't even if I wanted to.
I don't know what to do. In the long term, I suppose I ought to focus on school, as this is the big year in terms of grades and colleges and things. And I should work on building up my platonic friendships in real life; none of them are particularly close. In fact, I'm probably closer some of you than I am to the people in school. I should try and learn to navigate socially. Learn to make phone calls. Get around to editing my novel. Read those books from Christmas. And the Christmas before that.
But I don't know what to do right now. I just want to crawl away somewhere and hide for as long as possible and wallow in misery. But that's stupid and teenagery, and I've always prided myself on being more mature than your average sixteen-year-old girl.
Please, tell me what to do. Rec me emotionally stirring fics, funny videos. Leave me pretty pictures or silly macros. Just help me, please.
frustation,
sorrow,
angst,
real life fuckery,
s.o.s.,
friends