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Oct. 22nd, 2006 04:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
holly_evolvingDown at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cosmic_hiccup's, which is a plus. Keeping busy and keeping company.
Brief statement: No matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I did NOT see this coming. Things had been rough, but I thought they were getting better. And they never seemed as bad as all that. But no. I have no idea how long he's been lying when he said he loved me. I don't know if he was lying when he said he didn't. I have no idea what the truth is, and I'll probably never get to. He's been dishonest, cowardly, and weak, and I'm the one who gets to deal with the fallout.
Did I ever share the story of the night we first met? He told me all about how he was with this girl that he didn't love, but she was so nice and sweet that he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her, so he hadn't broken up with her. I told him he was being selfish and a coward for keeping her to himself when she could be getting over him and finding someone who could love her. Some things never change.
I don't know that I'm going to mourn anymore. I'm not very good at that sort of thing. Once the wound is inflicted, I pretty much start healing. This one, I'm not sure about. I get angry, but I have other things to focus on. Like figuring out where I'm going to live. I've already had some very kind offers, and I am seriously thinking about what will work best for me and the people who are always there to help. Not to say they're sorry and they care and they wish they could do something but it's really not possible (people who actually can't help but wish they could don't usually mention that, they just try to be supportive), but the ones who actually try.
On the one hand, this is horrible. The man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, who I've been in love with for two and a half years, doesn't care about me. On the other hand, I'm free now in a lot of ways that I haven't been since the last time I was single and essentially homeless.
I'd like to say that I won't live with another lover unless we're married, but I know better than to speak in absolutes about anything. Even about speaking in absolutes.
I stalked around in a fog-machine tunnel freaking people out for 3 hours, and now my bronchitis is aggravated. But it was fun. Real, pure fun, where I didn't have to worry about making sure everyone thought I was okay, because no one except Rebecca knew me.
And I spent this morning babysitting my nieces while the furniture was moved. I changed the poopiest diaper I've ever seen.
Life goes on, no matter what.
cosmic_hiccup's, which is a plus. Keeping busy and keeping company. Brief statement: No matter how much I try to convince myself otherwise, I did NOT see this coming. Things had been rough, but I thought they were getting better. And they never seemed as bad as all that. But no. I have no idea how long he's been lying when he said he loved me. I don't know if he was lying when he said he didn't. I have no idea what the truth is, and I'll probably never get to. He's been dishonest, cowardly, and weak, and I'm the one who gets to deal with the fallout.
Did I ever share the story of the night we first met? He told me all about how he was with this girl that he didn't love, but she was so nice and sweet that he couldn't bear the thought of hurting her, so he hadn't broken up with her. I told him he was being selfish and a coward for keeping her to himself when she could be getting over him and finding someone who could love her. Some things never change.
I don't know that I'm going to mourn anymore. I'm not very good at that sort of thing. Once the wound is inflicted, I pretty much start healing. This one, I'm not sure about. I get angry, but I have other things to focus on. Like figuring out where I'm going to live. I've already had some very kind offers, and I am seriously thinking about what will work best for me and the people who are always there to help. Not to say they're sorry and they care and they wish they could do something but it's really not possible (people who actually can't help but wish they could don't usually mention that, they just try to be supportive), but the ones who actually try.
On the one hand, this is horrible. The man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, who I've been in love with for two and a half years, doesn't care about me. On the other hand, I'm free now in a lot of ways that I haven't been since the last time I was single and essentially homeless.
I'd like to say that I won't live with another lover unless we're married, but I know better than to speak in absolutes about anything. Even about speaking in absolutes.
I stalked around in a fog-machine tunnel freaking people out for 3 hours, and now my bronchitis is aggravated. But it was fun. Real, pure fun, where I didn't have to worry about making sure everyone thought I was okay, because no one except Rebecca knew me.
And I spent this morning babysitting my nieces while the furniture was moved. I changed the poopiest diaper I've ever seen.
Life goes on, no matter what.