I don’t want to, but I’m going to. I am going to bitch and moan again, so you don’t need to read any further, just click on another tab, go to Amazon, surf for porn, whatever (surf is really close to smurf—maybe you should surf for smurf porn).
I had a friend over tonight and we were on the couch watching Legend of the Seeker, a very visually beautiful movie. He was just running his fingers through my hair, and at the same time gently running his finger over my ear (my grandma used to do that when I was a kid to help me fall asleep—I love that). My eyes flitted over to the photo books that Chad and I made by the TV and I lost it. I had to rush downstairs so that I wouldn’t weep in front of him, at least more than I already was.
I am living out the life that I’ve been given, but it is not the life I want. I had the life I want. I had the love I want, the man I want. I was happier than I had ever dreamed I could be, and I am left with a gaping wound that can’t be filled or ignored for too long. Left with questions that don’t have answers, with love that doesn’t have it’s intended receiver.
I am tired of asking questions, tried of aching for him to love me again, for my life to return, of crying. Tired of him being so happy and content without me while I simply long to have his hand in mine, his arms around me once more. I am tired of feeling the need to put everything out into the universe like this for the simple sake of having ‘my story’ or whatever this is told, trying to make it matter or count for something.
1 comment:
Just let it out. It's great that you're writing your thoughts down and nobody who cares for you will mind if you bitch and moan. In fact I see it less as bitch and moan and more as charting growth and recovery. Keep it up :)
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