"I can't talk to you when you're making all that noise..."
I have been making bad decisions lately. One after the other. I am on a path of self-destruction. I hate this. I sent him a bumper sticker on facebook that read "Next time my name comes out of your mouth, CHOKE ON IT BITCH" It was sent in a fit of anger.
Why does he get to be happy with a guy while I'm sad and miserable? He was the one who ruined us! Who broke me! I'm broken, I'm crazy and I hate myself right now! I'm not dependent on him, I was dependent on his love! BECAUSE I FUCKING ALLOWED MYSELF TO BE! I didn't become some weak codependent bastard. I am a man. I am an independent person. I am alive and happy with who I was. What I did was allow myself to be dependent on his love. On our love. That doesn't make me that guy. I am not that guy. I am the guy who is pissed off at himself and blames himself for all the fucking pain that I am going through right now. I blame myself for every fucking thing that's happened. I blame myself for all the pain that I've felt. I remember the exact moment when I let down every wall, when I took everything that I've learned in love and I threw it out the window. When I told him I loved him. I remember giving that away. I know that I left my pride behind and threw caution to the winds and I put my fears aside and I made myself vulnerable. I know that I did that. And I blame myself for it. Its my own fault that I'm feeling like this. Its my own fault that I am now the way that I am. I let this happen.
So no, I am not dependent. I was never dependent on anyone to make me more myself. I did allow myself to become dependent on his love. He asked me to. And I did. And now I'm here. And he is there. And I'm sad, pathetic, lonely, self-loathing, miserable guy who can't stop thinking about it. Who can't stop blogging about it. Who can't stop talking about it. I'm that guy. But its my own fault.
Life isn't like on Grey's Anatomy. Its not a television show. Relationships shouldn't be so dramatic and happy endings after something like what happened to me don't exist.
I would rather not exist right now. Not dead, I'm not suicidal. I just... don't want to be. I don't want to move. I don't want to exist again until this is gone from me. Maybe I could get amnesia? Or something.
I just hate right now.
Why does he get to be happy with a guy while I'm sad and miserable? He was the one who ruined us! Who broke me! I'm broken, I'm crazy and I hate myself right now! I'm not dependent on him, I was dependent on his love! BECAUSE I FUCKING ALLOWED MYSELF TO BE! I didn't become some weak codependent bastard. I am a man. I am an independent person. I am alive and happy with who I was. What I did was allow myself to be dependent on his love. On our love. That doesn't make me that guy. I am not that guy. I am the guy who is pissed off at himself and blames himself for all the fucking pain that I am going through right now. I blame myself for every fucking thing that's happened. I blame myself for all the pain that I've felt. I remember the exact moment when I let down every wall, when I took everything that I've learned in love and I threw it out the window. When I told him I loved him. I remember giving that away. I know that I left my pride behind and threw caution to the winds and I put my fears aside and I made myself vulnerable. I know that I did that. And I blame myself for it. Its my own fault that I'm feeling like this. Its my own fault that I am now the way that I am. I let this happen.
So no, I am not dependent. I was never dependent on anyone to make me more myself. I did allow myself to become dependent on his love. He asked me to. And I did. And now I'm here. And he is there. And I'm sad, pathetic, lonely, self-loathing, miserable guy who can't stop thinking about it. Who can't stop blogging about it. Who can't stop talking about it. I'm that guy. But its my own fault.
Life isn't like on Grey's Anatomy. Its not a television show. Relationships shouldn't be so dramatic and happy endings after something like what happened to me don't exist.
I would rather not exist right now. Not dead, I'm not suicidal. I just... don't want to be. I don't want to move. I don't want to exist again until this is gone from me. Maybe I could get amnesia? Or something.
I just hate right now.