I need to get this off of my chest.
Tuesday has left me more confused than ever and quite possible hurt beyond comparison.
The oddest thing is that I'm not crying or screaming or hating.
I'm just broken to the point that I'm empty and listless.
Apart from the part of me that loves you, the rest of me doesn't know how to feel.
We can't survive on love alone. Nor words, nor promises, nor hope.
Hope is a journey, and after Tuesday, although I still see the end point, it doesn't seem very possible anymore. Physically possible, but not emotionally. The dream we both created has now become a lot further than it was even though we've overcome an obstacle. An obstacle that has left me incredibly bruised.
Of course I'll carry on with this. I promised.
But I don't know how long is it gonna be before you leave.
I trust you. Your vision, your goals, your abilities, your stories.
I don't trust how you feel about me.
I can't.
I'm now something you can throw way the minute things get bad because you're better than you were ago, and you're better off without me. You know it. You believe it.
You haven't apologised for what you did. Perhaps you felt you were right.
You probably are.
You broke up with me by text and still asked if I would like you to do it in person.
Low.
Your ex-girlfriend broke you 9 times the same way and worse and you still went back to her.
I tried fixing you and for a while it was working, then I realised you were too good for me.
Common sense tells me to hang on because who doesn't want a bettet deal?
My ego and inferiority complex.
I push you away for a reason. It's because I agree with you.
But you insisted I was wrong and tried to get me to believe otherwise, then suddenly changed your mind.
Everything you have said to me is worthless.
I don't trust you.
I'm hurt.
I took you back but I'm broken.
We're not the same anymore.
The feelings are, but we're not.
I miss you. Not you that you are, but the you that you were or used to be or could have been.
Bad sign.
When one misses the past, one has to remove the present.
The many shades of you that you were, are and will be, I miss you.
No point telling you to come back. You'll just leave.
But the next time you do it, you don't get to come back.
Not even if it makes me miserable for the rest of my life.
Not even if I'm hurting and I want you and I love you to bits as I do and always will.
Not even if I see you hurting and that completely breaks my heart.
You chose.
I'm done.
I'm done.