Ugh. Again. Limb torn off. But this time, it needs to stay off. And as hard as it's going to be to resist the urge to clumsily and half-heartedly reattach it, I must.
I haven't broken up with someone since high school. Somehow this relationship didn't just end seamlessly and naturally like those of the past. This was disastrous.
I take a lot of the blame, but I don't take full credit.
It sucks when you want something to work out so badly, or think that something should work itself out and it doesn't and shouldn't. Acceptance will come eventually, though currently it seems like never, because right now it's just a bunch of "Whys?" "Hows?" and "What the fucks?"
I'm trying to tell myself that some things aren't meant to be. I'm trying not to think about his smell right after he shaves or his hands on my waist when we're jumping over the waves. Look at that torture I submit myself to. I guess it's natural.
Love translates to hurt so easily. And hurt, for me, evolves into hatred. This is tough, suppressing the hurt. I need to feel my feelings. Be strong. Because hurt and hatred will eventually become tiring and healing will begin. I guess I have to remember Donna Summer and her simplistic yet truthful prose, "I will survive." Hey? Hey?
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