I’m a fucking emotional fucking wreck. It’s been 3 weeks to the day now, and it feels like im back at day 1. i miss him every fucking day, want to talk to him every fucking minute, and every second that i know im no longer with him makes me want to rip my fucking heart out of my chest. how cruel do you have to be to tell someone that you know loves you so much, that you never loved them. i wish it had been a softer blow.
i cry everyday, some days more than others, but every day. sometimes somebody walks in on me, sometimes nobody knows. sometimes it is in the middle of the night, sometimes it’s in my sleep, sometimes it’s in the morning when i first open my eyes. it’s always the mornings and the nights that are the hardest. i know he is in his city, not having a care in the world about what happened to us; i know he doesn’t love or care about me anymore and never did, and i am left laying here broken and lost; he is moving on with his life without me, and i am staying where i am…the same.
i’m not getting any better, any prettier, any skinnier, any more talented, any more driven, any more anything. i just am sinking deeper and deeper into the what ifs, could haves, should haves, and hopes for what i thought was going to be. he is getting better and better every day, and all i want to do is continue telling him how amazing, brilliant, and wonderful his life is going to be, but i am no longer a part of it.
i think about how much i miss him, all the amazing things that we had, and having that crash down in front of me and knowing that it was all a lie. every “i love you” that was uttered didn’t mean anything, every kiss, every hug, every trip to be with me was just going through the motions; it was him trying not to hurt my feelings; it was him trying to force himself to love me, and meant nothing to him. when to me, it meant everything. it meant one more day feeling loved and beautiful, feeling like i didn’t want or need anything else. it was one more second knowing that someone was there for me and wanted the best for me. it was one more week of having something special and someone that i could give everything to without wondering or questioning if i was doing it wrong. and it really just amounted to nothing.
i dont love myself anymore. how could i possibly love the person i am when the person i loved rejected me like i was a piece of fucking trash, that didn’t even deserve a proper goodbye. how could i love myself when i was the one who pushed this person away; who was clearly not doing enough, who clearly was missing the sort of spark he was looking for in a girlfriend, who was unlovable.