Nothing like a f*cking break up to screw you in the head. What's worst or rather I say best is that I still love him.
Was sitting in the living room earlier this morning, since I had my period I had the freedom to eat and drink and smoke. I only did the 3rd one. I was reduced to smoking rollies since I was too lazy to go downstairs and get myself packets. It was so tedious that I felt like dumping the whole packet of tobacco on my carpet, roll it up and smoke that instead.
Obviously I look like a train wreck. This is the kind of train wreck that would be the by product of trains from all train companies combined.
I cried myself to sleep. Woke up. Looked in the mirror, cried some more, looked out the window, cried more. Was trying so much to comfort myself but that didn't work. I tried telling myself that okay that it was just a bad dream and I'd wake up from it. NO. It's real. The pain. REAL.
Tried to hate him but it would only lead me back to thinking about the good old times. BLACH.
And even at the attempt of hate my chest would constrict and all ability to control my emotions fail. I feel as vulnerable as a turtle that lost it's shell.
I caught myself calling his name out today a couple of times. Was too embarrassed to have my housemate hear it so I went to my room and did whatever I needed to do there. It's as if I lost all bodily functions?
Was sitting in the living room earlier this morning, since I had my period I had the freedom to eat and drink and smoke. I only did the 3rd one. I was reduced to smoking rollies since I was too lazy to go downstairs and get myself packets. It was so tedious that I felt like dumping the whole packet of tobacco on my carpet, roll it up and smoke that instead.
Obviously I look like a train wreck. This is the kind of train wreck that would be the by product of trains from all train companies combined.
I cried myself to sleep. Woke up. Looked in the mirror, cried some more, looked out the window, cried more. Was trying so much to comfort myself but that didn't work. I tried telling myself that okay that it was just a bad dream and I'd wake up from it. NO. It's real. The pain. REAL.
Tried to hate him but it would only lead me back to thinking about the good old times. BLACH.
And even at the attempt of hate my chest would constrict and all ability to control my emotions fail. I feel as vulnerable as a turtle that lost it's shell.
I caught myself calling his name out today a couple of times. Was too embarrassed to have my housemate hear it so I went to my room and did whatever I needed to do there. It's as if I lost all bodily functions?
Seriously at this point of time I don't need to hear that I'll get someone better and all that jazz. I just want to have the freedom to feel what I am feeling and condolences is the last thing that I want to hear. Nobody freaking died.
Just probably will think of things that I could do to occupy my time.
Love hurts. But it's the best kind of hurt in the world imaginable. Kind of like your heart being dumped in toxic acidic waste and has a blender at the bottom. And the whole process repeats itself until you decide that you're over it and want to move on.
Oh yea I want to grieve so please no comments about moving on and life goes on. I am enjoying my misery.
The irony is that this year has all been about planning people's weddings, and helping with my own niece's wedding and yet ironically I am licking my break up wounds at the same time.
I'll talk about fruity tasted rain drops, fluffy bunnies and cotton candy trees when I'm in the mood.
For now I think I'm just going to keep count of how many days, weeks months it takes for me to get over this breakup. As you can see from the title. But I'll still write about other things. I'm just giving you guys a heads up.
Dear God when will this torment ever end?
THE BITTER BOTCH
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