4/11/17- Day 1

Sadness is it’s own form of adderall. I’m desperate to stay focus on work. I’m distracting myself with work to avoid getting distracted and start thinking. Social medias are deleted. Well. Sort of. I’m not tempted now. I don’t want to be on that. Soon that will change. Or I will want to hurt. I can’t think about her. Her in a social media context.

She’s not in love with you anymore

She’s not in love with you anymore,.

She doesn’t love me anymore. She doesn’t want me. To kiss me, or touch me, or fuck me. She wants to hold me though. She wants to feel better, she wants me to feel better she wants me there but not there. And that’s not fair. To either of us.

Everything has to be by the minute. In a minute, anything could change. i will not hold myself accountable in the next minute to the feelings I felt in the last

Let’s list the eminent fears at this minute:

She is immediately happier now/ relieved

She won’t ever regret letting me go

She will fall in love with someone else

We will never be together again

That I will never fall out of love with her.

That she will go on

That I will not

Now for the silver linings at this minute:

i don’t know if I’m a little bit numb, or in shock, but it is not hurting as horribly as I was scared it would

I’m no longer trapped in the cycle

I’m not crazy- I was right

I no longer am dating someone who isn’t in love with me

my pride and survival mode are kicking in and helping

I feel like a part of me that has been gone..maybe the aforementioned..has returned. And I missed her. a lot

Logistical worries that I need to worry about if I wasn’t preoccupied with simply trying to breathe and not sob at my desk. I’m acknowledging these issues because they need acknowledgement but I am allowing myself at least 3 days of not having to deal:

housing- don’t want to move, but I don’t want to stay in that apartment and just think of her. best case she needs to move all her stuff into the house but that could take a while and coordination between the two of us which I really can’t handle

what do i want to do- do i want to stay here in portland. Wait atleast until I get rejected from Swift. Once that dream is dead I will need to regroup. I want to spend summer here but… at what cost. Like what I’m going to stay here and what if i go out and see her with someone else. I will die.

if c*****e comes…need to maybe rent a car? create car to go account at the very least.

So m******e knows. I want to talk to her because she went through/is going through the same thing. The person she loved stop being in love with her. But I don’t want to talk to her because it’s all loaded with her. She’s Liz’s best friend not mine. And she has her own motives.- she wants to feel apart of this, she wants to be able to report back to liz, she wants control- she’s inclinded to help because she feels sorry for me…or we can finally be real friends again because I’m done with liz. her liz.- But that’s not really my place anymore to obsess over. or about. And that feels better. I’m out of the cycle, of the wheel. And I know it will be hurt to be watching it spin without me but atleast I will no longer feel the weight of it as it’s my turn to be at the bottom.

i want to write something that helps someone. Not in a self help gay kind of way. But like how a song can save your life. A song is saving my life right now. I’m listening to september song on repeat. And on some levels it heightens the sadness but on the other it is keeping me here. making me feel in my own place when i’m in the office. My own place of sadness

my survival mode self is opposite than my fantasy self…than my day to day. I daydream about myself being completely shattered and destroyed. I’d stop caring about what i look like, what i do, other people. I drink whiskey at a bar alone and get wasted. fall asleep in a stupor. Be reckless

But survival me isn’t that girl. She combs here hair because it doesn’t take that much effort and it will make tomorrow easier. She passes on the bar alone to save money, if i get drunk I won’t be able to sleep. She doesn’t ignore everyone, she smiles at them because it’s easier than explaining to them you can’t really breathe. Let’s just say, she is no drama queen. Whereas normal me is. And I can’t decide what’s my autopilot. I probably developed that survival disposition because of my mom. Even when things were terrible and I would want to beautiful and broken- to revel in it- I couldn’t really bring myself to do it. It reminds me of that thing someone wrote somewhere. We want to survive, we seek life, or light. Some shit like that.

Maybe I hesitate to smile one moment because i think it means it cancels out my right to cry later. But that’s not the case. I’m taking this breakup minute by minute.

My finger feels weird. I keep going to spin my ring. I’ve only worn that for a year, and it’s on my middle finger. I can’t imagine how divorced people feel- removing the evidence after 20 plus years.

I know I can live without her I just don’t know how and I really don’t want to.

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