A week ago I, for all intents and purposes, broke up with Gary. FB msg’d him all that was on my mind and then deleted him.
This weekend I msged him Friday when I was out in SJ. Nothing special: 1. I’m out in SJ. 2. YOU. He msg’d me back in the morning saying sorry he was at his buddies camp. I didn’t reply, why would I?
Saturday night, 2:37am rolls around I’m just settling down after a mad night out.
G: So, you only text me when your drunk
You. Are. Kidding. Me.
Me: oh and you’re sober right now?
G: I wouldn’t drive but not drunk that’s for sure
Me: well I wasn’t exactly drunk when I wrote you that fb msg maybe you should start by replying to that
G: yeah I read it I mean I don’t know what to say im a dick you have every right to be mad
Me: well then why are you so concerned?
G: I don’t know you’re a nice girl you don’t deserve what I did
I’ve been ghosting it around my house lately. I constantly find myself with this look on my face: brow furrowed, eye brows turned up in the middle, and a frown where my smile should be. I sigh often, I mope around, I reread twilight, I say I’m fine when my mom asks me what’s wrong. I’m tired. I’m….exhausted.
I’m sitting here and all I want to do is msg him.
Do you still want to talk to me?
It’s got to be the lamest phrase ever..anythinged. I feel like I need to be this strong person, cuz I usually am. I feel like that’s what people expect of me. I feel like I’m such a loser, so pathetic, because all I want is for him to talk to me, to say he’s sorry and to fall asleep with his arms around me again. I feel like my friends think I’m pathetic for not being able to delete/block/de-friend/ignore him. I feel like I can’t mention it anymore without getting this “look”. I know that look, I know those emotions. I was that person. I remember feeding the same advice to other girlfriends. When did I pull such a 180’ ? I can barely do a cartwheel…
Do I try to box these…emotions, if that’s what they are? Save it for home, when I’m alone and protected by my sheets. Where I can watch 5 episodes of that DVD box set in a row. Where my cat never judges how many popsicles I consume. Where I can read New Moon out loud while crying and scream at Bella for breaking poor Jacobs heart.
I stare at my work computer, listening on repeat to “Love The Way You Lie”. Thanks for the timely theme song Eminem.
Ragingly. Pathetic. I feel it, I know it, I breathe it, and I still can’t help it. I can’t swim, or drink, or eat or think it away. How do I get out. Are we ever really out.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
8 comments:
I hate that your blog doesn't show up in my feed. I need to make sure I am following you from this gmail address. I know I am following you from my other one. So. Needless to say, I have a lot of catching up to do. LOVE that Eminem song. People kept telling me I need to see the video. It was epic. Take care!
yup. I'm following you. Gonna have to make sure I keep an eye out for your updates so I don't miss so many! Grrr at me.
I feel like I've missed a chapter in your book...or maybe the whole story? Who's Gary??
Love you!
i wish such ass-holes didnt keep finding you!:( boo to them! x
boston *nods*
listening to that song right now, I love it too!
you are not pathetic, I'm pathetic. lol, maybe we're all a little pathetic.
I get plenty of those looks too, and gosh I hate it. I know I'm being stupid, but sometimes you can't help it. I wish I could tell myself, actually my heart, to shut up and move on, but it's not that easy.
Good luck, boys are trouble. Too much trouble sometimes I think, but damn if I don't love them.
I would kinda agree with TJayne, we can all be a little pathetic but we can never stop feeling what we feel without extreme intervention.
Through ups and downs and guys being dicks and us being bitches you have to work out whats right for you right now, at this time.
Don't be so moppy/sad because there are so many people tho love you and care for you. And we will be here by your side while you re-read Twilight 100 times and curse his name and then cry out his name but you will get out of this funk.
Post a Comment