(no subject)
What the hell was I thinking? What am I doing? askhfdaksjfdlkjasfds *HEADDESK*
Life is so fucked up right now. I have no idea what in the hell I'm going to do with myself, to support myself, to support my daughter. And ontop of all of the extremely terrifyingly overwhelming issues like that I have to deal with, my heart is still broken. Try as I might to ignore it, sometimes it just won't go away. Tonight is one of those times.
Actually yesterday and today both were. On the surface it would seem directly related to the fact that he came over on Sunday night and we had the most amazing sex I've ever had in my life. On the surface it would seem like that could be the only explanation as to why I was doing so well before, and now I'm not.
Except was I ever really doing well?
It goes back and forth, all day long, every day. It doesn't help that sometimes it feels like he is still, even though we've broken up, purposely inflicting pain upon me. Maybe he wants to make sure he still can. Maybe it's his way of telling me he still loves me. Maybe he just likes to hear me cry; I'm going to go with that one, considering I've felt him doing this for a long time now. He must just really like the sound of my voice cracking, or the look of mascara running down my face.
I know I'm being dramatic right now. It seems sometimes all I know how to do is be dramatic. But I usually do such a very good job of not letting that side out, at least to the extent that it's felt on the inside. For instance, today, on the way to my Gramma's house, he called me and proceeded to be successful in managing to make me cry. By the time I got there, though, she had no idea and it stayed that way the rest of the evening. For the most part, I can talk about all of this in a very calm, rational manner. People who see the surface me have said, "Wow, you're handling this pretty well." And I guess, in a way, I am.
I mean, I'm not curled up in a ball dying somewhere right? That, to me, is handling it well. Especially when I have to physically try with all that I've got to stop tears from welling in my eyes.
And yet sometimes I just feel so numbed. Practially dead inside, completely void of any real emotion.
I don't know. I'm just gonna shut up and go to bed, and try not to think about the fact that he should be home right now.
Life is so fucked up right now. I have no idea what in the hell I'm going to do with myself, to support myself, to support my daughter. And ontop of all of the extremely terrifyingly overwhelming issues like that I have to deal with, my heart is still broken. Try as I might to ignore it, sometimes it just won't go away. Tonight is one of those times.
Actually yesterday and today both were. On the surface it would seem directly related to the fact that he came over on Sunday night and we had the most amazing sex I've ever had in my life. On the surface it would seem like that could be the only explanation as to why I was doing so well before, and now I'm not.
Except was I ever really doing well?
It goes back and forth, all day long, every day. It doesn't help that sometimes it feels like he is still, even though we've broken up, purposely inflicting pain upon me. Maybe he wants to make sure he still can. Maybe it's his way of telling me he still loves me. Maybe he just likes to hear me cry; I'm going to go with that one, considering I've felt him doing this for a long time now. He must just really like the sound of my voice cracking, or the look of mascara running down my face.
I know I'm being dramatic right now. It seems sometimes all I know how to do is be dramatic. But I usually do such a very good job of not letting that side out, at least to the extent that it's felt on the inside. For instance, today, on the way to my Gramma's house, he called me and proceeded to be successful in managing to make me cry. By the time I got there, though, she had no idea and it stayed that way the rest of the evening. For the most part, I can talk about all of this in a very calm, rational manner. People who see the surface me have said, "Wow, you're handling this pretty well." And I guess, in a way, I am.
I mean, I'm not curled up in a ball dying somewhere right? That, to me, is handling it well. Especially when I have to physically try with all that I've got to stop tears from welling in my eyes.
And yet sometimes I just feel so numbed. Practially dead inside, completely void of any real emotion.
I don't know. I'm just gonna shut up and go to bed, and try not to think about the fact that he should be home right now.