Weak.

I really don’t know how to start this post. Maybe I should just come out with it and get it over with.

I cracked and I messaged him. Fuck.

I don’t know what was going through my head, but basically I can probably assume it was this: “I’m lonely. Crap I miss him. Why did we stop talking again? I wish I could talk to him. Fuck..” And then of course I saw his status on my messenger and was all … swept up in things I could say to him. I started thinking about what his motivations were for messaging me on new years and maybe, just maybe, he missed me as much as I missed him.

So I messaged him. And for a little while it was like nothing happened between us. We talked like we had always talked. Yet, it was different. It was distant. Other than asking why he chose new years instead of Christmas to say something to me, we didn’t address the topic of our 2 months of silence.

And then he said something asshole-y again and it brought it all back. He said “I’m gone, I’ll ttyl. Monday.”

Fine. So apparently, I am nothing to him. He didn’t miss me and clearly he could care less that we were talking again. And it fucking kills me. Fuck. I hate myself for being so weak and pitiful. I don’t want to be that girl that keeps going back over and over again. I have no spine in his eyes, so yeah, how do I expect him to still care about me? How could I possibly think he has any feelings left for me, let alone respect? God… I am so ashamed of myself.

We are just strangers now and I need to accept that. It kills me to not talk to him, but I think it’ll kill me more in the longrun to keep this up. To keep swallowing my pride and shaming myself in order to hold on to something that won’t last. That will keep disappointing me and keep falling apart in my hands. I feel like that kid on the beach that makes a beautiful sand castle and can’t put it back together again once the waves sweep over it.

I wish I just… could stop caring. I wish I could kill that part of me that loves him and that wants him to love me. Who would have known it’d be so hard to give up on something so simple. I mean, what we had wasn’t even that special. What we had really only lasted a few months and it amounted to nothing real. We never met. We never knew each other, really. Why does it bother me so much? Why am I always the fool?

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