“Can’t Tell If I’m Done Or Just Uninspired”
Life has a funny way of kicking you when you’re down. I say this, because it seems as though when you feel you’re at you’re lowest point, something else plagues you when you least expect it. This is the inevitable case relating to my life.
I thought things were looking up in regards to him and I – I was wrong. So very wrong. Tell me; is it so iniquitous to be upset when you feel as though you’ve been deceived? He seems to think so.
While he’s out with some falsifier whom he feels more towards than me, treating her to the luxuries he used to drench me in, I’m at work, hoping for the clock to strike midnight, waiting for my shift to finally cease.
I want nothing more than to go home, pour myself a stiff drink, and cry. It’s been said big girls don’t cry – that’s a complete and utter fabrication. Big girls do cry; everyone does, at least anyone possessing an ounce of what they call “feelings”. He trampled mine with disregard, and I feel as though I’ve got the right to cry, the right to pour out my emotions.
I’m left with questions. Why did he do this to me? Didn’t he know how I would react? What do I do now? Do I forget about him? I told him to forget about me. He brings nothing but pain, and why? Does he enjoy the thought of me hurting? Does he know I cry at night? I thought he was the one. How naïve of me – you’d think I was fifteen years old again dreaming of some unattainable utopian society.
This situation is pathetic; two stubborn people with differing viewpoints on the problem at hand. He maintains he did no wrong; if that were true, why am I torn up inside. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing to me, to us. He ruined any chance we had of rekindling the flame. If I give in to him after this, I’ll have lost all self-respect – I’ll be no better than her, no smarter, rather,
The awful thing is, I know I will. Give in I mean. He’s already trying to rope me back. Sending me text messages with an innocent feel to them; granted, they’re coming few and far between – perhaps he waited for her to fall asleep, to step out, to be gone so he could badger me without feeling guilty, but he should feel guilty. He’s done horrible things. He’s made horrible choices. And those are just the choices I know of, the choices he’s been unable to hide.
What happened to him? Oh, how he’s changed over the past six months, and not for the better. Every part of me wants to blame her, and I do. But that isn’t fair. No one can change an unwilling person, at least not in the way he’s changed. She may have pushed the change, but he enabled it.
I hope he’s happy with the choice he’s made. I hope they’re happy together… now that I’m out of the picture.
I hope they burn in hell.