Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Lonely Night, Lonely Life

When did it become so easy to cry?

Maybe it's because...I MISS HIM. It's not really all the time that I miss him. It's just sometimes, when I feel he should be here to share something with me.

I want to feel him next to me in bed at night. I want him to see our (my) puppy's latest trick or cute picture. I want him to watch American Idol with me and complain the whole way through.

Sure, I've felt this way before, after other break-ups. But I feel like this time is somehow different. I was never really in love before this. I had deep feelings, but not in the same way. I had never so desperately wanted to spend my life with someone.

Of course, just because I wanted it doesn't mean it was right. It couldn't have been right. I couldn't marry an alcoholic with a bad temper and no college degree. There, I said it. I kept those things a secret for so long because I was afraid of people judging him, or judging me for being with him.

I didn't define him by his addiction or by his shortcomings. I wanted to see something more beneath the surface. I wanted to see only the good -- his quirky humor, the sweet words he whispered in his scruffy voice, his sense of adventure. I wanted to believe he could change. I wanted to believe I could help him.

But in the end, I just gave up a part of myself. I'm not sure if I really helped him at all. I was just his enabler. And now, we're both left weaker. I still care about him in an unbearable way. But I know with every fiber of my being that I cannot be with him, that I shouldn't even be communicating with him.

And in the moments of weak resolve when I've contacted him, I end up justifying this all over again. To him. Because he is constantly arguing in favor of our relationship and what it once was. He says he wants to be with me. And sure, in a perfect world where alcohol and money and responsibility don't exist, I could be with him. But otherwise, I would just be hurting myself.

I realize that when I call him, I'm not only hurting myself, but him too. Calling gives him hope when I know all too well that there is none. It's selfish of me to want to know about his life or to want to hear his voice. I always thought he was the selfish one in our relationship. Now I guess it's my turn to admit that I have to let him go.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Here I Go Again (On My Own)

It's like the song says. Here I go again. On my own.

It's been well over a year since I've taken the time to write down my thoughts. So why now? Because I can't keep it inside anymore. It's the same old story. I threw myself into a serious relationship. I gave it all I had. I fell in love. Not a little bit. A lot. It was passionate/can't live without you/best sex I've ever had -- that kind of love. From the sound of it now though, it seems like maybe it was just lust. I guess I don't know what it was.

But I know how it made me feel. It made me feel needed and wanted. It made me feel like I had a place in the world and a future. But only during the good times. When it was good, it was so far beyond good. But when it was bad, it was so much worse than I could have imagined. I guess that's passion for ya.

And now that it's finally, truly over, I feel alone. I feel sad. I feel like someone died. I feel like I'll never find such a magnetism with someone again. I wish I could be with him. I wish he was somehow himself but still different. I wish it would've worked out. I wish everything I did for him paid off. I wish I could've helped him more.

And now I can't help him. I can't keep wanting to be needed. But it's so hard not to. It's so hard to let it go when he insists that we're meant to be together. It's so hard to not want to hear that.

My brain knows I can't ever be with him. My mind knows that giving him another chance could be the biggest mistake of my life. But my heart? It is completely illogical and irrational. It wants to be loved. Even if that love is only verbally expressed.

Love is complicated. Relationships are complicated. Men are complicated. But nothing is more complicated than the human psyche. For once, I wish I could just empty my mind completely and start over.

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