A note to the reader: I don't censor this blog because without the bad decisions and lessons (to be) learned, it would be fairly dull. I don't name the guilty parties, but I don't alter the events. I don't mind comments and advice, but negative judgment I do mind, and don't need. If you're thinking I'm an idiot as you read some of these posts, rest assured--I already know that. That said, let's proceed!
"Cause I don't know who I am without you...all I know is that I should"
-Missy Higgins, "Where I Stood"
The latest song that more or less sums up my feelings on everything. Not even just him...everything. Every one before him, the ones after. It was Friday night/Saturday morning when it struck me. When his drunk ass was on the couch, spinning away, and I left a glass of water on the coffee table for when he needed it, kissed his forehead, and walked upstairs to bed. And in the morning when he was in sorry shape and finally found his way to bed, I didn't even touch him. Both of us slept almost all day, in our sweatshirts, jeans, and socks.
The tree, for the record, has lost its leaves. Every last one.
And there I was, again. There I am, still. Whatever. And I am so out of excuses. We are not just friends. We are not just lovers either. We are more than we ever should have been, but not nearly enough. The beginning is so hazy, so innocent compared to where we are. Never in a million years did I think it would be this hard. Never did I think I would hurt this much, or even care enough to allow myself to even BE this hurt. And never, ever did I think it would be so damn near impossible to walk away.
Not that I haven't tried. I've tried seeing other people, but they, as usual, disappoint. Deep down this is the issue, I know--it is not other people I need to fix this. I am the only who can. I'll get there. I'm hoping sooner than later. Especially since this is probably the 23rd time I've made this realization. Maybe three weeks across the ocean will help. If not, there's always electroshock therapy.
1 week ago