Today was just like yesterday and every other day, I woke to fight my tears, after waging war the night before against the same enemy.  I fought in the bathroom at work, to clear my eyes and calm my reddening face so that no one would see.  But inside my car, that’s where I fell apart, that’s where I wiped a hundred tears on the drive home, careful to keep my distance from the cars ahead of me, careful to avert my face at the stop light, careful so that no one recognized me.

At this point I don’t think I even love you anymore, I cannot think of a single thing that still exists in you that I love.  You’re more of a stranger to me now than the day we met, I will never understand, for the life of me I cannot understand.  I don’t love you anymore, but I miss you’re smile, and I miss the way you held me so tight, I miss the way we fit in that hug with my head on your shoulder and my lips against your neck, I miss the way you laughed, and I miss the look in your eye in when you’re working on something, I miss your impatience with my impatience, I miss the warmth of your hand tucked into mine, the curve of you’re hands and the strength in them, I miss the scars on the back of your knuckles, and the way you smell, I miss the way you sing for no reason at all, and I miss everything about you.I miss you’re stupid t-shirts, especially the green one that was so soft and thin, I miss the one with the peeps, I miss you’re jeans that were stained and ripped.

I cannot bear to meet my gaze in the mirror, and I dress with haste so that I don’t have to see any part of me.  I hate that you’re words ring in my head every day telling me I’m not worth it, telling me I ruined every moment we ever had together, telling me you hate me. I wish I’d never ever met you because nothing, nothing we had, not one memory of anything is worth what I’m going through now.  Those memories bring me the most pain, to think about how I ruined each one, to think about how in each one of those moments you were just wanting to be anywhere but with me, I wish I’d never met you, because there was nothing wrong with me then, there weren’t buckets of tears to be cried everyday, tears that soak my pillow, soak my sleeve and cause my head to ache with knifing pains and my eyes to swell and bruise.

And in the middle of all those tears, in the middle of my sobs and gasps for air I am concerned about only one thing: you.  And I hate myself for even giving you a second thought, I hate myself for not being able to forget you, move on and get over you, but I let you in, I gave you my trust, my love, and every part of me and my heart and I have nothing left. I am nothing at all.


Re: Love

What is love?  I doubt there is a person on the planet that hasn’t pondered that question.  As children and young adults we seek concrete answers for what love is.  Small children may see love in a present given by a relative, I personally just grew up with the assumption that you love your family because they’re your family and you just do and you can’t change that, and then I knew that romantic love was something different–and on that I was totally clueless.

Love is something I held out for because I didn’t know what it was, but I was pretty happy like I was so I didn’t see any driving need to find it.  Enter Senior year of high school.  I had never dated anyone, never really wanted to.  Sure there were some guys I thought were cute, but the best guys were the ones I was friends with so I couldn’t date them and risk ruining that.  So I started dating this guy, we said the I love yous but I didn’t love him, I just loved the “relationship” part.

Six years later, I’ve spent a lot of time watching people fall in love and find their “one” and I was in no hurry always heeding the advice of “it happens when you’re not looking”.  And it did, well at least I fell in love, deeply, madly, blissfully in love.  I cannot say for sure if I was every loved back over the next three years, all I’m sure of at this point is my feelings.

What I’ve learned about love is this.  It’s undefinable.  If you ask a hundred people to describe or define love, you will get 100 different answers, you will have some similarities, you might even have those that are virtually the same–some people aren’t creative–but what it really is for each and every person out there is different. It is a feeling that you cannot really put in words.  Love is a connection that sometimes defies logic.  Relationships can be built around that love, but first you have to be willing to accept that the way in which you love may not look the same as the way your partner loves, and that’s ok.  What’s not ok is thinking that your way is better, it’s not ok to think that your relationship should be like someone elses.

The question you have to ask yourself in love is this:  Do I love this person? And then you have to figure out what you’re going to do about it.  And trust me on this, what you do about it will affect you and that person forever, so be very careful when you decide what is worth keeping in your life, because throwing out a beautiful, wonderful unselfish love will hurt someone in ways that you can’t even imagine.

Madly in love

I used to think that the phrase “madly in love” was something people aspired to be, to have in their relationships, to be madly in love.  What could be better?

Answer: Anything else.

I was/am (I have no idea at this point of my feelings) madly in love with him.  I blindly loved him, forgave him for anything without him needing to ask.  I gave him all my trust, I was completely open, completely vulnerable and I trusted him to protect me.  I thought him to be so self-less, every time I turned around he was doing something for someone at his expense, either the expense of his time, his money, his position, so I thought him selfless, I thought him trustworthy, and I have never been more wrong about a person in all my life.

I don’t trust easily, I don’t commit easily, and I don’t love easily.  In all my life there have only been 4 boyfriends and only two that I’ve said I love you too, and the first when it ended I realized I didn’t really feel anything for him at all, I was just caught up in the high school romance factor and I wanted what all my friends had, but it was nothing, and it was so easy to walk away.  I walked away from the next two guys just as quickly as I realized that they had really strong feelings for me, and as quickly as I realized that what they wanted in life was not what I wanted.  It was easy to walk away.

I’m not saying I didn’t have feelings for those guys, two of the three I had known most of my life, we had always been friends and as friends I cared about them, I cared about them enough to not lead them on. I am still friends with them to this day, and I am so happy that they are both married to wonderful women and have started a family.  The third I only really got to know senior year of high school, we didn’t hang out in the same circles and truth be told I think I was more of a conquest than an actual interest for him. We had nothing in common, I hate to admit it but I really only dated him because we weren’t friends and so I didn’t care if we didn’t make it because nothing was going to be ruined by us going out.  He’s engaged now, maybe even married by now, and though we are not friends I couldn’t be happier for him, I absolutely don’t care.

But him, that one, that one eats me alive everyday.  I am angry, so angry both at him and myself.  On the one hand I should’ve known not to date him. I should’ve never given him the chance, I should’ve known that my place in life is to be alone.  You see before all this I just had this feeling that I would never be in a relationship, because up until then not one single person that had ever crossed my path pulled at me the way he did, not one single person allowed me to be me and made me feel ok being me until him, so for all my life I just assumed that I would be alone, and I was really fine with that.  I could go out with any group of friends and I didn’t care that I was alone, I could go to family things and it didn’t bother me to just be by myself, I was truly, truly fine.

On the other hand he knew all along that he didn’t want to be with me, so for three years he allowed me to trust him more until I took down every wall, he allowed me to compromise on things that never made a damn bit of difference to him, it was just me giving up a part of myself, and he knew full well he’d never take the steps and meet me halfway. He lied ever single time he said “I love you”.  I know someone reading is saying, well it’s possible he did. No, it’s not.  Because the thing about love is, when you really, really, truly 100% love someone you give them your all, you don’t hold anything back, you bust your butt to be whatever it is they need you to be, some days they need you to be just who you are and other days you have to be stronger for them, or more caring, more nurturing.  Sometimes you have to step outside of your normal self and fill the gaps because they don’t have it in them to be that, but it’s ok, because on that day when you are lacking they are going to fill the gap for you.  Real love is loving someone more than yourself.  And you should never be in that kind of love by yourself. Because when you’re in it by yourself that when it’s utter and complete madness.  Madly in love is not where anyone should want to be, it’s where you end up when the person you’re loving doesn’t love you back.  And it leaves you hurt, it leaves you broken, it leaves you without all the defenses you spent a lifetime building, it leaves you in a state of panic, and gripped with sheer madness.

I am madly in love.


Tomorrow is my brother’s birthday.  He’d be turning 32, he passed away 7 1/2 years ago. At the time I thought that was the worst thing in my life, and at the time it was. I remember thinking that if I could get through that then I could get through anything. I was a lot stronger then.

I remember the morning like it was yesterday. My room was downstairs right off the living room, my parents room was on the opposite side of the house. My mom was who answered the door. I woke up to a scream, I can’t remember what she said or if it was just a scream but I knew instantly what had happened. I was out of my room in a flash and by my mom’s side, the next few minutes are a blur but I remember walking into my parents room, my dad was sitting on the side of the bed sobbing, I sat next to him and he leaned over on me, mom came and sat on the other side and for a little while we just sat there, not really knowing what to do.

It was early, 4:30ish so it wasn’t really the best time to be calling people and delivering bad news. We called my dad’s best friend because he needed someone and mom had to handle things and I had to do everything else. My sister’s mom and step dad were called next, they tried for hours to get in touch with my sister and brother in law and couldn’t reach them, so they finally drove out to their house. My mom called her sister, who went and told my grandmother.  Then we called one of my mom’s best friends, she and her husband came. Then we called my dad’s sister so that she could tell my other grandmother.

I cleaned. When people die that means people come to your house and the one thing my mom can’t stand is for people to come over to a dirty house. So I cleaned.  The counters, the floor, dusted the tables, through the cats out, fed the dogs, swept the porch. It was almost like it was someone else doing these things, because I don’t remember anything going through my head, I remember the cleaning part, but for me to not be thinking, well that’s just not something that ever happens to me, my brain is always on.

I hated that people came, it was too much for me. I hated having to talk and chat and do, I walked out a lot, I just stayed hidden in the woods, on the back porch, in my room.  I don’t remember many of my friends coming. I had to ask one of them to come, he was out of town but on his way back and I had to tell him to come. My best girlfriend may have come, I don’t remember.

I couldn’t sleep in the dark. Every time I turned out the light I could hear that scream, I had to leave on a light, or I had to put in a movie with the volume down low. I used to be the type of person that couldn’t go to sleep with the least little bit of light in the room, the little green dot on the computer had to be covered. I had to buy blackout curtains because sometimes the moon was too bright, and if there was noise I was definitely not going to fall asleep, sometimes my dog breathed too loud.  For months this is how I coped, I’d sleep in fits never sleeping through the night.

I had to start my last semester in college four days after he passed, four days. I was pissed about this, and I guess I could’ve withdrawn but that would’ve messed everything up, but maybe it would’ve done me some good too.

I struggled, I felt guilty for laughing, for breathing, for having life. I had to assume the responsibilities that were my brothers because there was no one else to do them, and I don’t dislike that I had to work so hard and learn to chop wood and crank generators and stuff, but at the time I just wanted my brother back because that was the way that it was suppose to be.

I made peace with his passing quickly, I was relieved really.  My brother had many demons here on earth, he had abused drugs off an on for years. He was hiding inner demons that I can only assume to understand, and so in a way his passing was a blessing because now he didn’t have to hurt anymore. I would not wish him back to life, not as he was, he was a tortured soul, with a good heart.

My faith has wavered over the years and while I do believe in God, I’m not sure I believe solely in the Bible.  So I read about religions and mythology and beliefs of other groups and I believe what makes sense to me.  I believe that we are all some type of energy, and energy cannot be created or destroyed, it’s eternal. And so at different times in our lives we are different things, whether we retain awareness of ourselves in different forms that I do not know, we are not always human, or animal, sometimes we are the earth, the sky, the wind, the waves, sometimes we are chemistry, love, hate, desire, sometimes if we are lucky maybe we make it out into the universe and become a star so that everyone can see us, wonder at us.

Tomorrow would be his 32 birthday but he will forever be 24.


I don’t really sleep anymore.  I stay up as late as I can to avoid going to bed. When I get in bed and turn out the lights, or even if I leave them on, the tears come. There’s no one beside me, and not just anyone will do, has to be someone I love, and he’ll never be here. I’ll turn the light back on thinking it will help but I just keep crying. I put a movie on to bring some noise and distract me and I may fall asleep, and I may have to press play again.

I wake up early and I’m screaming his name in my head, reaching out my hand in the darkness and finding only the cold sheets. I’m so angry that he has left me, I’m so hurt and I’m so disgusted with myself for still missing him.

I work in public education and our spring break is coming up, I usually just stay home and work my second job. This year I really wanted to go somewhere, Miami, Vegas, Mexico, the Bahamas, anywhere but here. So I started planning a trip with one of my friends, had the hotel, the dates, the flight, everything all ready to go and when she gave the ok, I fell apart. I curled up into a ball and cried for hours, I stopped answering my phone and just cried.

I can’t be with people. A day of being with people exhausts me.  I usually cry on my way home from school and sometimes I cry on the way to school, just depends on the morning.  When I have to be around people 24/7 and I have to be nice and polite and I have to pretend that everything is ok, I have to have that time to myself to fall apart.  When my niece stayed with me a few months back I had to keep quiet as a cried, no sniffles, no body shaking sobs, just tears rolling out of my eyes, soaking my pillow.  When I went to my grandmothers I spent hours each night alone in the pink room crying, aching.  I spoke barely 10 words, I didn’t laugh, I didn’t jaw with my uncle like I always do, I was horrible and I felt horrible, and I was powerless to be different.

People think that it’s just easy, that you just “move  on” well I did move on, from people that didn’t mean anything to me, i just walked away without a backwards glance.  It’s not that I didn’t care for them, one of my exes is someone I’ve known since I was probably 4, he was my brothers best friend and we dated briefly and now he’s my brother, I love him as much as I do any member of my family, but he didn’t mean anything to me. I keep asking myself how he did this to me, how he just walked away and the only answr i have is that he felt about me the way I felt about this guy.  But if he did then he lied for years, he used me for years, he deceived and hurt me, and I was such a fool that I believed everything was peachy and fine, I feel so stupid.

I don’t want to move on, I don’t want anyone else, but nor do I want this guy back. People used to describe me as :”independent, strong, willful, smart, etc, etc”.  And I felt those things about myself and now, now I just hate everything about me.  I feel like I let someone see me, the real me that I hid behind all that strngth all that sarcasm and independence and he just found me lacking in so many ways. And yet in our fights he’ll do the whole, “you’re so amazing and loving and kind etc etc,” bullshit, bullshit bullshit. No matter what he could possibly say the fact remains that nothing I am was good enough for him, nothing I am is worth it, because I am nothing at all.

He told me he wanted me to be his friend. And I told him over and over that you can’t be friends with someone that you are in love with. It wouldn’t be fair to me to have to watch him move on with other women in front of me, that it wasn’t right of him to say that to me. And it’s not, I feel like the worst person on the planet because he asked me to be his friend and I had to say no and walk away.  He made me be the reason he’s not in my life. He forced that choice on my and it kills me everyday that I am not strong enough to be that, but it kills me everyday that he doesn’t care about me the way I do him, and I don’t think he ever did.

I cry and I pray for him, I’m not a pretty crier, think a really scrunched up face, puffy eyes and red splotchy skin and snot running out of my nose.  I cry so hard the muscles in my face ache to the point that I get migraines and tension headaches.  My back is in knots because of the tension created when I cry. I hurt all over.

I don’t recall a time in my life where I didn’t love myself, or at least like some part of me, but now, geez right now I can’t find a damn thing to like and I don’t know why anyone would want to be my friend or hang out with me. I’ve pushed so many people out of my life, I’ve torn apart 12 year friendships, I’ve stopped texting and calling people back who have been there for me in the darkest times, because I just don’t have it in me.  There’s just nothing left.

Raising my hand

I’m a questioner.  I don’t like to not understand things, I seek understanding like a poor person seeks wealth.  I seek knowledge like a child learning to read, I always have a question, but in the same vein I also seek to share knowledge with others, I believe the best thing to be in life is well-informed, it takes away the excuses you can make later on, and I despise excuses.  That’s why this whole big mess of my life is so hard for me, because I don’t understand.

I don’t understand how you can spend that much time with someone, 3 years, and do all the little things you do, the truly thoughtful, sentimental, mean the world kind of things only to have it blow up in your face. I keep reading articles about love and relationships and most say that one day you’ll be able to look back on them and be thankful that they ended…but is that always true?

I look at people in relationships and sometimes I see something that’s just there, just that willingness and concern for the others well being, putting the other person first, at the same time their putting you first, that’s what trust is.  It’s not having to look out for yourself anymore, its being able to look out for the person you love and not worry about yourself for once, because at the same time that you’re looking out for him, he’s putting you first, looking out for you, it’s a win-win.

I can’t figure it out, I can’t figure out what was really wrong.  Was it his drug use?  Was it me?  Was it him?  Were we just “not right for each other”?  And then I’m hit with my feelings, and sometimes feelings and knowledge just don’t go hand in hand.  Because I feel it was his drugs.  I don’t feel like there was anything I could do.  I don’t feel like he, the true him the person he always got to be with me, because I didn’t expect anything from him, I just really loved that buy he was with me.  Were we just ‘not right”.  and this is where it hurts so much, because everything I feel says that we were exactly right for each other.  I never really wanted for anything more.

It’s terrible to miss someone so much, to hurt like this.  I feel for anyone in my shoes right now.  I worry about him all the time, but I keep having to tell myself “he doesn’t want you, he doesn’t love you, he’s finding someone else, you need to forget him, stop, stop, stop,” every time I start thinking of him I have to tell myself to stop.  I pray for him and sometimes I question whether I even believe.

I look around in this world and I see all this evil sitting right next to all this good and I don’t understand, I don’t understand how some of this evil exists. How you can hurt children or animals, how you can kill, steal, and hurt others.  Why we are fighting wars, why a person decides that a group of people deserve to die and how that person can gather others to their cause with such ease.  I don’t understand why people follow the lead of someone else without first making their own opinions.

I just feel like I am constantly raising my hand and rarely are my questions answered.

One Day.

One day will I not feel like this?

One day will my tears not fall when I hear your name?

Will my heart not ache at the memory of you?

Will my mind not torture me with your smile?

Will one day come?

One day will I be able to make it without shedding a tear?

One day will I be able to not think of you?

Will it ever stop hurting?

Will I ever be ok?

Will one day come?

One day will I be able to smile and laugh without the guilt?

One day will I be able to breathe again?

Will I ever see your face?

Will I ever have your love?

Will one day come?

One day will I stand in the sun?

One day will I still be alone?

Will I ever stop missing you?

Will I ever be again?

Will one day come?

Just one day.

Will one day come for me?

It’s raining on Sunday

It was a Sunday in May, a week before Memorial Day, you called out of the blue, you were driving, you wanted to stop by.  I said ok. We hadn’t spoken in a while, I hadn’t gotten out of bed that day. I woke up and it was raining and like the clouds, the sky, I cried that morning.  I missed you terribly and here you were about to stop by. Normally these things excited me, I’d jump up and wash my face, change the sheets, vacuum, clean the counters, the floors in expectation of your arrival, but not this day, today the weight, the sadness was too much, so I lay in the bed wondering why you needed to stop by.  You came in with a bag in your hand, a picture in the other.  They were my gifts, the things you’d given me over the years, some of it anyway.  You set them on the dresser and I just lay there watching, you said something about the stuff and I replied “I can’t have it” and you turned, took off your shoes and crawled into bed and lay on top of me, like we’ve done a thousand times before.  I wrapped my arms around you and held you and you held me, we stayed like that until morning, taking from each other, never sated, never satisfied, desperate.  I thought it meant something, you showing up like that.  I thought it meant something you bringing those things back to me.  A week later and I hadn’t heard a word, you were doing it again, something was up. I logged into your FB account and checked your messages, and there it was.  Messages from four days after you left me, left my bed, talking with her.  Inviting her on a weekend trip, telling her you had something that would keep her up all night, telling her you had a place she could lay her head, telling her you were sitting around in your underwear just chillin, telling her how you were driving recklessly on your new motorcycle you purchased with your daddy’s death money.  Her encouraging your recklessness, offering you drugs, pushing you into the darkness.  And you went.

I confronted you in a madness, in a painful state of mind that I can’t even recall. You got mad because I snooped, because you know what you did was fine and ok as long as I didn’t know…NO.  It wasn’t ok, just because I was clueless while it was happening doesn’t make it ok, just because I snooped doesn’t make it wrong that I found out.  What you did was wrong. Every filthy, disgusting bit of it.  I confronted you and you treated me like dirt.  You yelled in my face, you told me you hated me. You told me that I ruined every moment we ever had together over the past three years, you told me I made you miserable.  You told me I was horrible.  You told me I was like a sad little puppy that wouldn’t just go away.  You screamed in my face and turned and told me I wasn’t worth your time and to get out.

I wanted to die, I have never wanted anything more.  I sat on my sofa with pills laid out before me, I called in sick to work and left my friends and coworkers on a hot, busy day, I let them down and I never let people down.  No one called, no one texted, no one checked on me. I was ready to do it, and then she called, my mom, the one person in a person life who you expect to know when something up. I couldn’t speak, it was just gasping sobs. She came.  She was scared and I hated to do that to her, I confessed everything despite my shame and embarrassment.  She didn’t want to leave me but I was fine, there was one person in this world that cared, even if it was just my mom who kinda has too because she’s my mom.

We spoke after that, we’d seen each other after that. I think you might have apologized at some point, but it was only because I said something to you about having not apologized.  Have you ever in your life recognized the hurt, pain, and damage that you’ve caused and willingly, initiated an apology.  I’ve never seen you do it, I’ve never seen you admit you were wrong.  It’s not an easy thing to do, believe you me, I hate admitting I’m wrong, but the best thing I’ve ever done is acknowledge my ignorance and offered an apology, even if it never changed anything, I gave it anyway.  You’ve never offered an apology for the thousands of ways you’ve hurt me unless I made you feel guilty first, you lack empathy.

It seems to rain every Sunday.  And the weight of this memory crashes down upon my soul, my heart, my mind, my spirit, if I could have you just show up again, crawl into bed and just hold me like I wanted to hold you, I’d pray to just fall asleep and never wake up, it’s the prayer I give every night and the fleeting memory that it didn’t come true every morning at daybreak.  It’s raining on Sunday, and everyday feels like a Sunday.

Yet another day

It’s like time passes before me, like I’m standing outside myself and watching life go by.  I’m completely miserable and right on the edge of self destruction.  I must have been blessed (or cursed depending on your view) with a conscience that is very, very strong.  The urge to destroy myself is pulling everyday, it’s so strong, and it terrifies me because I want to give in so badly.  I’ve pulled away, and I pull farther everyday, I’m telling myself it’s the only way and I think in my mind that it is.  When I attempt to connect, when I open that door to possibilities I get sick, I get scared and I just close it.  I feel trapped in a hole of isolation, I’m incredibly angry and hurt, its so much anger and hurt that I can’t seem to find the end of it and to me it just seems as endless as the ocean from the shore, nothing ahead of me but dark, rolling waves.  There’s a rushing in my head that won’t subside.  I push and push and push myself to limits, I don’t sit quietly, I move all around and I try to keep connected but it’s not really possible.

I feel like everything has been ripped away from me.  To go from thinking that I was loved and secure and that someone wanted me to this, to this aching, persistent, nagging pain.  It’s like no matter how its said, or what you try to think, nothing fixes it, nothing makes it better, there is nothing to accept, I’ve accepted it, but it hurts.  How can it not hurt?  How can a situation where I am in love with a man who doesn’t love me back not hurt?  He says he cares as if that makes a damn bit of difference, and it doesn’t, it’s almost like it makes it worse.  To have someone that your in love with say, “I want you to find someone and be happy”  It’s such a fucking slap in the face.  I found someone and I was happy but what I want doesn’t matter, nothing about how I feel matters.

There is no guarantee that this won’t happen to me again, and it’s so stupid that I can’t handle it.  I’ve not felt it with guys I was dating, I’ve not been where they were and I’ve had to walk away, the difference was it was months into a relationship, it wasn’t 3 years.  It wasn’t vacations and family gatherings and trips and telling someone you loved them. I worked so hard in this relationship, yes there were things I should have worked harder on and yes there were places to improve but that’s what time is for, that’s what futures are for and now I have neither of those things.

I am so mad at him, I don’t know how to do this and how to get through this.  I pray for him every time those tears sneak up on me, I just pray for him because I don’t know what else to do.  i don’t even know if there is a God anymore, I just think about all the shit in my life and how, how is all this possible, how is it that I try to be this good person and it just doesn’t matter, because there is no payout in my life.  I certainly don’t do the things I do or be the person that I am because I want some kind of reward but it just seems like I never get a break.

I despise myself.  I don’t look at myself, I take my clothes off and jump in the shower and towel off and dress as quickly as possible.  I hate touching myself to bathe or dress, it makes me sick.  Sometimes I just want to take a knife or razor blade to my skin and just slice it off in great big lengths, and sometimes I just want to slice straight down the length of my arms over and over and then my legs, my stomach, my breasts, every inch of my body I just want it torn into ribbons.  There is nothing here to love.

One year

One year ago today was a Friday.  It was about 6 and he called me, he hardly ever called we usually just texted.  I was gearing up for another evening home alone, I was so excited when he called, so happy to hear his voice.  He sounded good, better than he had in a while.  He wanted to come see me, he was about to leave his house and head my way.  Total surprise.  I was so surprised, so excited so stupidly thrilled.  I ran around the house cleaning up, changing sheets, vacuuming, getting dressed.  When he got here he came in and we chatted for a bit and he wanted to get something to eat so we went out, he was perfectly nice until we got to the restaurant, then he got snarky when I ordered my steak ‘well’ hurt my feelings a little bit, but we moved on, sat down had a good dinner, talked about stuff, everything seemed so normal.  We get back to my place and he is sitting on my sofa and I sit down and pick up my laptop, and he turns and says “I want to break up”  I remember that moment more clearly than almost any other in my life.  I looked at him in shock, “are you serious” and he laughed and said “you had to see this coming”.  No I didn’t see this coming, for months I had been asking you if things we ok, if we were ok, why aren’t you texting me back? why aren’t you saying I love you anymore?  why are you cancelling on me for everything?  I gave you tons of opportunities to do this, tons.  But a month prior you went on my FB wall and wrote “Happy Birthday, I love you, you are amazing” so no, no I didn’t see this coming.

I hurt so much.  Everyone keeps saying it will get better…when?  When?  I cry all the time.  I can’t stand to take showers or baths because I can’t stand to see myself unclothed, I think about you touching me and it makes me physically ill. For months and months you slept with me and you hated me, you hated every minute with me and I was this stupid fool that was just so in love, and kept making excuses for you, I just thought you were stressed and I asked, and I asked and nothing, nothing from you.  I don’t think  a man can understand what it’s like to feel dirty, in  your body.  I literally feel unclean, I cannot tell you anything about my body because I haven’t looked at it in over a year.  I don’t make eye contact with people because I don’t want to see how they are looking at me.  Do you understand what it’s like to feel that kind of shame, that kind of disgust.  I have never hated myself in my life until this, until you.  You who made me think I was pretty, you who made me think I was sexy, you who made me think I was loved.

I could have gone my whole entire life without you.  I was a whole person, I was a happy person.  I had friends, people that I actually talked to and hung out with and I didn’t feel like shit because I was always alone.  And now it’s not because I’m alone, it’s because the person that I want next to me just “wants me to be happy….with someone else”  Do you know what saying this to me does.  Do you understand that saying it to me just hurts more, it just lets me know, in case there was ever any doubt, that I am unloved, unwanted, undesired, un-everything.

I hate that you are the first thought on my mind every morning and the last thing on my mind every night.  I absolutely despise you.  You are the worst kind of person I know, I have never, ever known anyone like you in my life.  I’ve known mean people, I’ve known assholes and jerks, but someone like you.  Someone that uses a person.   God, I don’t even know.  I pray for you every night when I’m crying, every night it’s the same prayer “Dear God, please be with him, please bring peace and comfort into his life, his heart.  Help him to see Lord the blessings in his life, the beauty in the simplest things.  Please give him what he needs to have true happiness and to know what it is and not take it for granted.”  Every night, same prayer, sometimes I pray that during the day.  Sometimes I pray that first thing in the morning.

I sometimes pray for my own death.  I don’t know sometimes what I want more, for you to die or me.  There are times when I want it to be you, I can deal with death, it’s final.  I wouldn’t ever wonder if you’re ok, if you’re hurting, I wouldn’t wonder who you’re with.  Who gets to hear you play, who gets to hold your hand and make you laugh.  Who gets to have all the things I wanted with you for a lifetime.  if you were gone I wouldn’t have to think any of that.  And then I think how unfair it would be to your family, how it would hurt your mom, how it would hurt your nieces and nephews and brother and sister. And then I wish for my own death.  I want my brain to cease, because unless I am actively doing something, working, talking, running, something my mind turns to you and it’s torture.  I tell myself to “stop” 100 times a day, stop thinking, stop dreaming, stop hoping.  I don’t wear my seat belt anymore because i pray that I’ll be in an accident that will take my life.  I don’t pay attention like I should, like i used to when I drive because I don’t want to make it anywhere safely.  I worry about what my death will do to my family, how it will hurt, but they’ll be ok.  My sister has her family, my mom has friends and family and she has grandchildren.  My dad will struggle, just because that’s what he does.  My brother, well I haven’t seen or talked to him in over a year, it won’t be too hard on him.  It’d just be easier for everyone involved to not have me around.

When I was a teenager I struggled a lot, went and put myself on medicine and it helped. But I remember struggling in those days and sitting around crying hating everything about my life and wanting to die, I wanted to die back then because I was miserable, because everything just sucked, everyone said “it’ll get better”–I’m 30, and things are so much worse.  Back then I wanted to die because I hurt, and now it’s because I don’t want to hurt others.  I’m a terrible friend, I absolutely don’t care anymore.  I don’t care about so-and-so and her husband and kid, I don’t care about so and so and her pregnancy and upcoming child.  I just don’t care, I don’t have it in me to care about anyone, not even myself.  But i hear it in peoples voices, I see it when they look at me, i see the messages they send about me that they think I don’t know about.  I don’t want anyone to have to worry about me anymore, I don’t want them to hurt because I can’t get it together.

Life is hard, it’s totally unfair, and I just don’t see the point.  I don’t see the point in anything.  For me life is about and memories and having someone to share those things with.  I used to day dream a lot, it was always being wealthy and having a great looking husband who was some big shot something.  And then I met and fell in love with you, an dyou replaced the person in all those fantasies.  I no loner wanted a guy who wore a suit, I wanted a man who sang.  I no loner cared if he made a ton of money as long as he was good to me, danced with me in random moments, and took me to new places.  I no longer cared about having that perfect house that all my friends have, I’d be happy with something small that we got to make into a home, something we built together.  You took the place of every dream I’d had, you became exactly what I wanted, and I was nothing to you.

You’ll sit there and say how you feel bad about what you did, how you hurt because you hurt me, how you want me to be happy, how you this and that and so forth and so on.  And all of it, ALL OF IT, is total bullshit.  It’s the stuff you say because its “what people say”.  I don’t want you to be with me because you feel bad, I truly don’t.  But knowing that I’m not enough for you, that nothing about me is worth it.  God you can’t know how that feels.  To put yourself all of yourself out there to a person and have them reject you.  It’s the most painful hurt.  It’s crushing someones dreams, it’s tearing their world apart.  It’s like being totally madly in love with someone and wanting to spend the rest of your life with them, it’s like walking down the aisle, being ready to commit yourself in marriage because you truly want and believe in forever and you want it with this person, and getting to the alter and having them say stop.

I’ve cried a million tears, and I’ve prayed a thousand prayers.  I keep trying to do the right thing, I keep trying to be a good person, and everyday I just want to know why?  Good people finish last.