Literally. I’m simply spiraling and falling into so many pieces right now it’s not even funny. I did just text my therapist to see if she has any appointments today. Just waiting for her to reply. What can she do to help? I have no idea. Yet, I feel like I have to reach out to someone if I’m going to escape this overwhelming feeling of being so fucking alone and so fucking sad.
I can’t quit crying. Sobbing. Bawling. Hyperventilating. Begging God to just make it all stop. I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to breathe and feel the empty feeling with every breathe I take. I don’t want to feel so fucking sad and alone. I just want it to stop. So fucking badly. I can’t even say I care how it stops. Just make it end.
I’m tired of always hurting. I’m tired of having literally nobody but myself. I’m tired of going to sleep alone. Waking up alone. Hoping my phone rings with someone I want to talk to. Wondering why nobody ever asks me how I really am. I’m tired of being strong when I feel like life is just falling apart. I’m simply fucking tired. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It hurts. So fucking bad.
Nick. Nick is basically over I guess. He couldn’t just tell me that though. Nah. Let’s just slowly pull away instead. Let’s see if we can make her question herself and her worth. Make her wonder if she’s going fucking insane or if what she feels is happening is real. Am I reading too much into it? Am I not reading enough into it? Did I do something wrong? Am I just not good enough? What the fuck is wrong with me?
He just has slowly said less. Called less. Texted less. He’s busy. I get it. Today I finally texted him and asked if he was tired of me? No, just reality setting in. What reality? There will be no time soon so might as well rip off the bandaid. What does that even mean? Of course my broken heart knows exactly what that means. It’s over. He’ll be busy with kids and instead of putting forth effort he’ll just discard me. Throw me away. Move on. Because that’s easier than trying. I called. He didn’t answer.
So, I returned to sobbing. Crying until I didn’t know how I even had tears left. The feeling in my chest. It hurts. Badly. It feels empty. Broken. Damaged.
He called when he was taking lunch. I asked what he meant. You know what I mean. No, I want you to say it. Explain it. He won’t have time. It isn’t feasible. So are you saying we’re over? Yeah, there’s just no point. Seriously? No point? Do you even like me? Then he gets an attitude - obviously I like you or I wouldn’t have even tried. If you REALLY liked me you’d make time. You’d make it work. You’d do what you have to do. So, you’ve got an odd way of showing how you like someone. I then said - So, are we seeing each other this weekend as planned or is that over to? Well, that’s up to you. What the fuck? That’s up to me. You’re done with me. Yet it’s up to me if I see you? Seriously? Of course I want to see him. Okay.
We accomplished nothing in that phone call. Except crushing my heart and soul. Are we really done if he’s going to see me this weekend? Why can’t he just put in the work instead of running away? What hurts so much is I thought this one was different. I thought he really cared. You don’t really care if you can walk away from someone so easily. Just because life got too complicated.
I was willing to do whatever it took to make it work while he was too busy. I truly believe if there’s a will there is a way. If you truly like someone you’ll make the time. He counters with - you can’t make time out of time that isn’t there. There is time there. You get creative. You think outside the box. “It’s not feasible.” This whole long distance relationship wasn’t feasible from the beginning. Yet we’ve made it work perfectly for the last 7 months. I genuinely liked him. Loved him. I truly would have moved to mountains to make it work. Would have made sacrifices. Yet, he just tells me it’s not feasible and he won’t have time.
I’m crushed. My soul is broke. My heart is in pieces. I truly didn’t see this coming. It’s been so good. So perfect. I was okay with the limited time. Quality over quantity and the quantity has been great. I was happy to find creative ways to see each other during the crazy volleyball season. I had accepted taking it slow and letting things build slowly and naturally. Everything was going great. I was tackling my insecurities and anxiousness. Really, it felt healthy and good. Legitimately good. I was finally finding the peace I’ve spent my whole life looking for.
Just to be left sitting here feeling more broken than ever before. Feeling like I’ll never find my happily ever after or my person. Wondering what I did to deserve this constant rejection and abandonment. Why does every single person walk out of my life? Why am I never good enough to fight for? How much can one person take?
I keep telling myself I’ll never have to beg the right person to love me. That if he can walk away from me he doesn’t deserve me. That I deserve to be someone’s main priority not an option or a choice. Not a convenience. That if he truly loved me the way I love him he wouldn’t leave. Telling myself it’ll be okay and he just wasn’t the one.
The logical side of me knows this. My heart. My brain. They don’t feel the same. They want to beg him to love me and never leave me. They want to tell him I’m worth loving and I’ll do whatever I can to make him happy. They just want him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything will be okay.
They want to do whatever it takes to make this pain end. They want so badly to never feel this pain again. Never. They just want to be loved & wanted.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t handle having my feelings just tossed aside like they never mattered. Like I’ll just be fine. I can’t feel broken.
I’m so tired of feeling lost and alone. So tired of feeling like nobody is really there for me. Literally feeling like it’s me against the world and I’m losing. I just want it to be over. I want to fast forward to the good part, the part that I don’t hurt, the part that someone actually loves me and I’m finally not alone. The part that makes this all end.
I’m tired of pretending I’m strong. Pretending I’m okay. When really I’m dying inside. Slowly. Painfully. Alone.
I have a feeling I have a lot of sad days coming up. Days that I don’t get out of bed. Days that I have to work really hard at taking my next breath.
I just wish he’d reconsider. Wish he’d pick us. Wish he’d pick me. I want to be chosen. Maybe this weekend. Maybe he’ll still come. Maybe I can pathetically get him to want me. Forever. Not just until tomorrow.
My therapist scheduled me in an hour. I wish she could magically fix it. So badly.
Loading comments...