Defeated
I remember not much longer than a year ago, sneaking around and thinking I was being cryptic and secretive and oh-so-cute. God that must have been nauseating. And oh-so-transparent.-----
I took a few minutes today to reread an old 'Journal of Hate.' Before I began blogging, but after Ex dropped me, I needed an outlet to purge all the nasty, pent-up, spurned and scorned and painful feelings I have. I dated each entry and added to the journal. It helped me get through the moment, and it helped me breathe again until the next.
For months on end, there were multiple entries. They trickled out, though, and it's been oh, at least 9 months since I had even read any of it. The feelings are still there, but they're not strong enough now to need purging.
What hurt the most, I think, was that I made him work for my trust, and he proved he was worthy of it. Until he wasn't.
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March 22 creeps ever closer. I hate that it's still difficult.
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And what made it all so incredibley beyond shitty was that I was finally okay. I was finally stable. I had finally owned up to being a mess and was finally past that. That you chose then to leave - that you stuck by me when I needed you most and gave me space when I claimed I needed it, when I pushed you away - but that you waited until I was as happy with myself as I had ever been - then, you left. It made me doubt anything prior we had had; it made me wonder if you were always wanting to leave but never brave enough.
I've always thought I loved you, but looking back now...rereading things now...well. Perhaps it's best you left; it's apparent that you weren't healthy for me.
But you could have been.
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