April 14, 2015
In the morning
Perhaps I'm not really all that sad. I mean, yeah, I've let a few tears slip here and there, but I think if anything I'm just really disappointed in how everything played out. Truth be told, I've thought about breaking up with him countless times. There were many little moments that made me happy, but as a whole I felt unsatisfied. But even then, I didn't want to lose him so I refused to be the one to pull the trigger, as always.
I keep reading that the more you talk about it, the quicker the healing process. Only thing is, the only person I'm really talking to about it is Sarah, and she's too close to him so I don't like talking to her. He talks to her, too, and it makes me feel vulnerable in a nasty way to know she's hearing both sides of the story...which are so different. It amazes me that two people experiencing the exact event can have such different perspectives. I don't want to know what he's saying. I know it's all shit.
I've talked to my co-workers a bit, and they've all been very supportive. It's just I don't want to talk. I do on some level, but mostly I wish it would go away, which I guess isn't going to happen. I just don't want to dwell on it so much. Maybe if I keep writing about it, that will speed up the mourning period just as well as talking.
I feel it most in the mornings. Right when I get up and begin getting ready for work. It's a tightness in my chest, a phantom lingering over my shoulder. It's the stinging of new tears that don't quite fall. Then there's the car ride to work. Those quiet moments of thought are when the anxiety begins. I couldn't tell you why. I'd go out of my mind if I didn't have work to distract me. But I noticed it this morning. Driving somehow intensified that tightness in my chest. Too many thoughts. Too many memories. Too much longing. What a powerful thing longing is.
As I mentioned yesterday, I wallowing in a bit of self-pity. Thinking I'm a horrible person. Believing I'm unattractive. Finding my personality to be seriously lacking. So, I did what any sane person would do and I texted Popeguy. If someone as charismatic as he considered me to be his best friend, there must be something to this package that makes up Tijuana. Of course, he told me how attractive I am, how photogenic, and stimulating. And that out of the many reasons he's still in this relationship, one of them is because I'm a deep thinker and keep him in check. Funny. I always say he keeps me in check. Soul mates, right? But I fear that one quality he finds so endearing is the reason that I find it sometimes to connect with other people. I'm too busy being stuck inside my own head.
Anyway.
scullerymaid at 9:54 a.m.