Sunday, March 13, 2011
Word on the street is that Heartbreaker has been in town all week for Spring Break, and he hasn't even said a word to me. This is progress seeing that I haven't talked to him in months.
But at the moment that I heard his name, I felt uneasy. Something in my gut was upset at the thought of him being in town, and I didn't know why. I didn't know what to do. I've moved on. I'm doing well without him. I'm doing well without knowing what he's doing and without caring what he's doing. And still, something about him being home for the break was bothering me. And I realized that I was relapsing.
Thoughts were running through my mind of where he's been and how long he's been here and who he's been with since he came home...but the biggest question haunting me was: Why didn't he contact me? All the past times he's been home for break, he's been the one to initiate a catch-up session in which we would talk about our lives (or actually him talk about his "awesome" life and me just sitting there listening pretending to care). And at the same time I was asking myself these questions, I got mad at myself because it's almost like I cared.
And I realized that it's all because he still hasn't given me what I've wanted for the past 3 years: his love. I've tried so hard for the past forever for him to get him to just tell him he cares. For him to admit to the fact that I'm something special, and he can't help but have those feelings for me. And even though I don't care about him at all, deep down I'm still waiting for those words of affection. The words of affection that I will never hear leave his lips. Period.
I'm coming to realize that I should stop waiting around for him to come around because he won't. He's just going to move on and trying to break the next girl's heart. And I'm only hoping that she will save herself before it's too late....
My situation with Heartbreaker has been told too many times, been twisted up around and around in my head and my heart too many times, and it's made me cry and made me have this feeling of regret too many times. So I'm done talking about it. I'm done crying about it.
When I look at him I'm disgusted, and I hate him. And that's the way it should stay.
He hasn't contacted me in months, and that's the way it should stay.
And let's hope I don't relapse again...