Lately my mind has been elsewhere causing me to forget other emotions, such as anger. The worst part is I will never say this to your face. I've thought about it, dreamed of it. How I would say it, hoping it feels like a sucker punch to the gut, the way I feel every single time I think about you. How you let me down. And yet, it is not you letting me down, it is the you I made up, the you I wanted you to be. Which makes it worse, it was like I was asking for it. I feel like I never really mattered to you, and yet you still mean so much to me. It is confusing because I remember all these good things about you. All the things I love about you. All the good things you have done for me or said to me. I try to fool myself into believing you could have never done anything wrong, and the fault with us now is all on me. Because it would destroy me to see you as someone who could hurt me, and just not care. It hurts me to care so much and feel nothing in return. It sucks because you will probably not read this. I honestly do not think I even mean enough to you for you to check up on my blog.. I hate lying to myself. It is draining, and the thing is, every time I do it, I am aware that is a lie. I am not really looking for much here. I am just looking for you to play an semi-active part in my life. I get it, you are 2500+ miles away, there is not much you can do. We can't chill out or anything, but a call or a text doesn't hurt. It doesn't take too much time. You know, I think I was mistaken, the worst part isn't that I won't say this to your face. It is that I will not move on. I will do everything in humanly possible to keep you around, no matter how much it hurts me. Because I see you an incredible woman who possesses qualities that I wish I had, characteristics that amaze and confuse me. You are the girl that every other chick wants to be. You changed the way I view life, people, the world, and myself. And at the end of the day, everyday, I can forgive you for giving me another reason to feel worthless to you. I just can't forgive myself. Because the thing is, I know I am not. I know I am better than that. Better than the way you treat me, the way I allow you to treat me. But I feel like such an addict. Actually this quote describes it well.
“I understand addiction now. I never did before, you know. How could a man (or a woman) do something so self-destructive, knowing that they’re hurting not only themselves, but the people they love? It seemed that it would be so incredibly easy for them to just not take that next drink. Just stop. It’s so simple, really. But as so often happens with me, my arrogance kept me from seeing the truth of the matter. I see it now though. Every day, I tell myself it will be the last. Every night, as I’m falling asleep in his bed, I tell myself that tomorrow I’ll book a flight to Paris, or Hawaii, or maybe New York. It doesn’t matter where I go, as long as it’s not here. I need to get away from Phoenix—away from him—before this goes even one step further. And then he touches me again, and my convictions disappear like smoke in the wind. This cannot end well. That’s the crux of the matter, Sweets. I’ve been down this road before—you know I have—and there’s only heartache at the end. There’s no happy ending waiting for me like there was for you and Matt. If I stay here with him, I will become restless and angry. It’s happening already, and I cannot stop it. I’m becoming bitter and terribly resentful. Before long, I will be intolerable, and eventually, he’ll leave me. But if I do what I have to do, what my very nature compels me to do, and move on, the end is no better. One way or another, he’ll be gone. Is it not wiser to end it now, Sweets, before it gets to that point? Is it not better to accept that this happiness I have is destined to self-destruct? Tomorrow I will leave. Tomorrow I will stop delaying the inevitable. Tomorrow I will quit lying to myself, and to him. Tomorrow. What about today, you ask? Today it’s already too late. He’ll be home soon, and I have dinner on the stove, and wine chilling in the fridge. And he will smile at me when he comes through the door, and I will pretend like this fragile, dangerous thing we have created between us can last forever. Just one last time, Sweets. Just one last fix. That’s all I need. And that is why I now understand addiction.”
― Marie Sexton, Strawberries for Dessert
The difference is you are not a man abusing me... You are a woman who mentally fucks with me. One day we are close, the next I am dirt on the ground.
-- If you are reading this, this probably is not about you. Because the person it is about, I doubt has ever read my blog... or even cares enough to check up on me on Facebook. Or return a call. So please know this most likely not to you. I mean unless it is you, and you do follow up on me. Anyways, you know who you are. If you have to question it, it is not you.
And for the record, I really do know I am not worthless, sometimes I just forget it. Until I look in the mirror and remember how sexy and awesome I am.. :)
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