When Reality Hits

I have to be honest. Since the break up, if I were to speak for myself, not thinking about anyone else or anything, I have to say that I was quite happy. I felt liberated, like a weight has finally been lifted. I don't know why.

It's not that I don't love him. God knows I do. I was only sad because he was sad. Because he was crying and pining for me. I couldn't take his sad calls, his long messages. They crushed me because it showed I hurt him so bad. And it made me feel guilty because I was fine, on the outside.

Inside is a different story. I really don't know what to feel. Maybe I wasn't as broken as he is because to me, our relationship has been dead for a long time. I don't know how he didn't see it. Maybe it was my fault. I was stupid enough to pretend everything was okay because I wanted to try all I could to make things work. But they didn't. The sparks were gone and my heart felt heavy.

I know so many people are going to hate me for this. There might be judgement and criticism of what an ass I am. But I can't deny it. He was right all along. I've wanted to leave for quite some time now. I just didn't have the guts to say it. The reason for me wanting to leave? I just don't know. My heart changed. I love him. I really do. It's just that, you can love someone in so many ways. I realized I could never love him the way he loved me.

It's selfish of me, I know that. I hate myself for it. I wanted him to be happy. But now that he is, when he's taken that first step towards recovery, my heart sinks. I don't want to be left behind. I don't want to be just a part of his past. I couldn't take it, his messages with the smileys in it, they were even worse than the 3 a.m. phone calls of him sniffling.

I haven't moved on. Sure, he may think I'm happy. I've been going out a lot, shopped a bit, ate a lot. But I think all I've been doing is running away from all this. I don't want to deal with reality. I want it all to just go away. And now he's decided to walk away. I should be happy, right?

In a way, you could say that I don't miss him. Not him, maybe. But I miss the good times we had. How he could make me laugh. His nicknames for me, the little games we played. I'm constantly reminded of the times we spent together. I smile at them, think of them fondly. But now that he's moved on, it just kills me.

I didn't know that when he said he wanted to break up, he was actually waiting for me to say no and come rushing to him. I am not a mind reader. And maybe, just maybe, a part of me wanted to break up.

I am such a selfish bitch. I hope you see now why I hate myself.

I don't know what is this I'm feeling. So many thoughts in my head, and not one of them is rational. Don't suggest that I go see him and ask to give this relationship one more try. I can't bear it if we got back together and either one of us screws things up again, which I'm sure will happen. And I just can't forget all those feelings I had, the weeks before the break up.

The answer is obvious. I need to get myself in check, straighten up, and move on. If only it were that easy.