Pretty content with life for now

You know what?  Life is pretty great.  It really is.

That doesn't mean I don't miss the past.  That doesn't mean I don't cry and hurt from having to let those memories go.  That doesn't mean I'm always happy, or that I'm always okay.  I don't always even have the attitude I'm writing with in this post.

But some days are great.  Some days have hidden joys in them, that distract me from the pain and make me smile.

I'm not over Tim.  I will never be over Tim.  You never get over your first love, and you never stop wanting him back.

If he asked me, I'd come back to him in a heartbeat.  I'd marry him in the blink of an eye.  I'd die for him.  That fact will NEVER change.

I will never feel like I'm "better off without him" or like I can just "move on."

But I can figure out how to live on my own for awhile.  I can figure out how to look for happiness whenever and wherever I can.

Don't tell me to forget him.  Don't tell me to stop talking to him.  Just like our relationship wasn't like any regular relationship, our breakup wasn't like any regular breakup either.  Don't you tell me how to deal with this, because YOU DON'T KNOW.

But I'm telling you here...I'm learning how to deal with this.  I'm learning how to smile sometimes.  I'm learning how to cry a little less often, be depressed a little less frequently.  I'm learning how to survive.  It's not easy.  But it's possible.

I don't think I would say "it gets better."  As far as things with Tim, I wouldn't necessarily say that's true.  Yes, we've figured out how to be friends, but I still have no clue what to do sometimes.  I still have no clue how to restrain myself from saying "I love you."  When I've said "I miss you" before, he hasn't known how to respond.  We're both having trouble.

It doesn't always get better.

But it gets possible.  Possible to survive instead of dying every day.

I'm still dying inside, bleeding to death because I miss him so much.  And I love him more and more every day.  It's impossible to stop.

But that's okay.  Because I can still survive.  I can still keep breathing and living on my own.

I truly believe that someday he and I will find a way back to each other.  In the meantime, I will just keep breathing.  And finding little ways to smile.

#thelittlethings

I guess I can do this

Maybe I can handle this.  Maybe I can live without him for now after all.

Honestly, it's been at a point lately where even if I fully believe that he'll be mine again someday (which I do), it's nearly impossible for me to even survive until then.  I've been feeling like I need him *now*, I have to have him back, I can't live any longer without him.

But I can.  Yes, it's more like half a life.  A shadow of what I once was.  But at least I'm surviving.  Step by step, I'm getting through the days.  With slightly less crippling pain in my heart, because he's still my friend, and that helps.  He still cares, even though he is horrible at showing that sometimes.

I know he cares.  I think I'm learning more about him right now than I ever did in all the time we were together.  Because it's less about me now.  It's about his well being.  I have to focus on his well being, because that's why he's gone.  To focus on his own well being.

So I can stop focusing on myself so much and focus on his happiness, his needs.

I can be okay.

I can do this.

#feelingalittlestronger

He speaks!

So he finally talked to me.  Of his own decision.  Pretty cool.

I've been giving him space since my birthday last week (which he didn't even seem to acknowledge, I might add--not even a simple "happy birthday"!).  We got in this big fight about how I didn't get to see him when he was on vacation down here where I'm going to school.  It was dumb.  He refused to see me, even though I was literally 20 minutes away from where he was.  It hurt and it was stupid.

But we resolved our fight and moved on.  And I didn't talk to him after that.  I was pretty sure he would just never speak to me again.  He's not great at initiating conversations.

Until this afternoon...

He messaged me on gchat!  Of his own free will!  It's kind of pathetic how happy it made me, actually.  I'm like...ecstatic.  Even though I've been really sick today (throwing up since before I made my last blog post), that little bit of interaction made me feel so much better, at least emotionally.

Maybe he still does care.

And he assured me that those bitches I was complaining about before are not a concern.  He's not gonna hook-up with anyone.  That's not an option.

THANK.  GOD.

I feel so much better.

#thingsarelookingup

When bitches come out to feed

It's been all of a month and a half since the love of my life said "I think right now we should just be friends."  Since my world fell apart and I lost the love I loved the most.

Already, the vultures have descended.  Slowly, but surely, they're coming out of the shadows with their lip gloss smiles.  Little comments on his Facebook posts, little insinuations that he's just SO funny and they just GET him.

Bitch, please.  More like they want to GET in his motherfucking PANTS.

Now, I'm not gonna lie, this makes me really upset.  I can't deny the jealousy and the frustration and the outright pain from seeing them lurking.  I don't know how to share him.  I mean, I gave him EVERYTHING I had.  I gave him my entire heart, my entire soul, my entire life's breath, my virginity, my time and energy and money.  And I don't want some other slut coming along to try to bang him.  Especially when they're some skank-ass, fat-ass, ugly bitch.

BITCH, ain't NOBODY can sex that man like me.  Trust me.  I blew his mind, and he never quit reminding me that I was the best he EVER had in every way.

Damn straight.

But what pisses me off more than feeling like the hoebags are swarming around the love of my life, smelling his freshly single blood...

...is that he needs to go through sexual healing.  That was a struggle we had in our relationship.  He had never realized how beautiful, emotional, and truly metaphysical sex could be until he met me.  Until we shared in the sweetest of love-making.  The most heavenly of trysts.  And that threw him for a loop.  At one point in our relationship, he had to stop having sex with me altogether, because he suddenly realized that all his years of treating sex like a recreational drug had scarred him and made him feel completely empty inside.  Years of having meaningless, bad sex with MOFO BITCH SKANKS like the ones chasing him right now, finally caught up with him and he doesn't want that anymore.

HE NEEDS TO HEAL.  LET THE MAN HEAL, HOES.

Goddamn.  These dick-hungry motherfuckers are what made him like this.  So fucked up emotionally.  And now they won't leave him alone again.

I guess, if I'm gonna be real honest wit u...

I'm afraid he'll be weak, and cave in to their relentless persuasion.  I don't want that for him.  Granted, I'm being selfish, and I don't want him having flings right now because I'm pretty sure he and I are gonna get back together one day, and when we do, I don't want to have had some whores gotten anywhere near his dick in the meantime.

But even forgetting about myself, I really just don't want that for him anymore.  I know it will completely trip him up if he does that shit again.

In the end, it's completely in his hands.  He's the only one in charge of himself, not me.  I don't get to control him.  I didn't before, I certainly don't now.  I don't get to tell those skank-ass bitches to fuck off.  And I don't get to tell him to keep them at bay.

But GODDAMN I want to.  This sucks balls.

I hate dem bitches.

There.  I said it.

I hate them.

#truestory