and I told her why I've been so miserable lately (crying randomly, sulking in my room for days, wearing my ray-bans all the time to hide my swollen eyes). I said that I'm terrified that I made a big mistake; that I ended a relationship that was really special and that I don't deserve to be loved by anyone. I don't want to think about if I did the right thing or not, but I can't help but feel like I cut off my own leg and now I'm struggling to walk. It's a cheesy simile, I know. It's the only way I can describe it. I told myself that it was the right thing to do over and over again. But when I think of the type of person I want to spend my life with, I think of him. I screwed up big time and perhaps I'll never be as happy as I once was.
When I broke up with him, I could never pin point the exact reason why. I now know that it was simply the geographic distance between us. It led to a loss of trust that I couldn't handle. After a long day of school, he wanted me to talk to him, which was not too much to ask. But he was in a bad place and wanted my support. However, I can barely support myself, and I just couldn't take it. We would fight about little things because we were drifting so far apart.
Now that we're apart indefinitely ( because now I know his parents hated me all along), I only think of the great times we had: eating lunch at our high school, hugging his back while he was on the computer, watching American Beauty and eating cereal off his chest, checking ourselves out in the mirror, walking to future shop, standing outside in the cold waiting for the bus, riding the bus and drawing invisible hearts on each other, going to Said the Whale, staying in bed all day, crying on each other, him falling asleep on my chest, talking on skype for hours while he was away in the summer, drinking beer, eating spits and watching hockey, holding each other while watching Wall-e (I cried) and having him care when I cried.
I could honestly go on forever. I think I would be ok if I knew that he remembered all these things and they didn't cause him pain. But, I know that he doesn't anymore, because they hurt him too much and so, all the good times we had are left to me to remember. And it's not a good memory if only you remember it and the other person sees it as a lie, regretting every moment, and for a good reason. I'm a heart breaker: first his, then my own.
and I told her why I've been so miserable lately (crying randomly, sulking in my room for days, wearing my ray-bans all the time to hide my swollen eyes). I said that I'm terrified that I made a big mistake; that I ended a relationship that was really special and that I don't deserve to be loved by anyone. I don't want to think about if I did the right thing or not, but I can't help but feel like I cut off my own leg and now I'm struggling to walk. It's a cheesy simile, I know. It's the only way I can describe it. I told myself that it was the right thing to do over and over again. But when I think of the type of person I want to spend my life with, I think of him. I screwed up big time and perhaps I'll never be as happy as I once was.
When I broke up with him, I could never pin point the exact reason why. I now know that it was simply the geographic distance between us. It led to a loss of trust that I couldn't handle. After a long day of school, he wanted me to talk to him, which was not too much to ask. But he was in a bad place and wanted my support. However, I can barely support myself, and I just couldn't take it. We would fight about little things because we were drifting so far apart.
Now that we're apart indefinitely ( because now I know his parents hated me all along), I only think of the great times we had: eating lunch at our high school, hugging his back while he was on the computer, watching American Beauty and eating cereal off his chest, checking ourselves out in the mirror, walking to future shop, standing outside in the cold waiting for the bus, riding the bus and drawing invisible hearts on each other, going to Said the Whale, staying in bed all day, crying on each other, him falling asleep on my chest, talking on skype for hours while he was away in the summer, drinking beer, eating spits and watching hockey, holding each other while watching Wall-e (I cried) and having him care when I cried.
I could honestly go on forever. I think I would be ok if I knew that he remembered all these things and they didn't cause him pain. But, I know that he doesn't anymore, because they hurt him too much and so, all the good times we had are left to me to remember. And it's not a good memory if only you remember it and the other person sees it as a lie, regretting every moment, and for a good reason. I'm a heart breaker: first his, then my own.
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