Saturday, November 24, 2012

Random

I wanted to give details about the concert, and I will.  I will also give details about Lincoln, which I just saw and was awesome.  But that will be an entry for another time. 

I've been thinking about this no contact thing, and I'm realizing the longer I go not talking to him, the more I've begun to hate him.  Possibly.  It is easier for me to realize all the shit he has pulled and how disgustingly selfish he is and has been when I do not have him as a "friend."  And I use that term loosely because he was a worse friend than he was a boyfriend (at least toward the end).  Since I no longer wish to cling to him and to the idealized version of him that exists and has existed in my mind - which honestly is not an idealized version, but rather how he was prior to everything happening - it is becoming easier for me to dislike him.  

Right now, I will say I still don't hate him.  But I cannot promise that such hatred won't develop. 

I did all I could for him, even when he did not deserve it.  Hell, he doesn't deserve my constant thinking about him, in a positive or negative light.  In return, I was led on and abandoned. 

I tried.  He didn't.  

He ran. 

Therefore, he doesn't deserve me.  Not only as a partner, but as a friend.  As someone who cares about him.  He would probably disagree with this, and claim he hasn't done as many awful things as he has. 

I still hold out hope that the person I originally met still exists, and that maybe I can meet him again.  But I will not entertain the idea of being friends - now or in the future - with the version that I have dealt with recently. 

If he wants to do whatever with whomever, I do not care anymore.  I don't care if it is with that chick, or with anyone fucking else.  (Or at least, I'm going to continue to tell myself that I do not care, until I finally stop caring.)  All I know, at this rate, is that I tried, and was excellent to him.  I did nothing to warrant all of this.  I did not and do not deserve to feel as awful as I do about him.  I should not have to go to fucking counseling because he destroyed me (though to be fair the reason I'm there is not solely because of him), and left me alone to pick up the pieces while he ran around with people like...within a month after breaking up with me.  

I may hate myself at times, and think myself awful, but I did not deserve that.  I deserved someone who truly cared about me.  I do not believe he did. 

At one point he accused me of soiling the memory of our relationship with all my thoughts.  That people say all the types of things we said all the time while in relationships and then eventually break up.  No.  I'm not soiling our memory.  He did.  I'm just interpreting as anyone would.      

Really, I do hate that I can be in a good mood, and then I think about him, and immediately get in a bad mood.  

And I know that this might change.  Tomorrow I might miss him.  Well, I miss him now, but tomorrow I might not think these things about him.  

This might seem as though it is against what I said in a previous entry, that if we are meant to be, then we will be, and that is fine.  It really is not.  A friend recently told me that I need to hate him, for a while.  That I tried to suppress my overwhelming anger and disgust at what he did and how he has been in an effort to remain friends, or rather, on my part, in an effort to get us back together.  That him asking to be friends was worse than anything else, because it forced me to hang onto him, and to keep my anger inside.  Although I did allow it to leak a few times, I tried to suppress it.  I tried to claim that everything was going to be okay.  I tried to believe him when he told me that he would not have done anything with that girl if he knew how upset it would have made me (which I know was a bullshit lie probably just said to appease me).  I told myself that he is not terrible, and has not done terrible things to me, when his track record said otherwise. 

I even said at one point that I was going to try to forgive him.  And I did try.  Even if he would not believe that.  I really did.  

But it was too soon to forgive.  And it is too soon to not be angry.

I'm still mad.  

I don't know when I won't be, for what he did. 


This is rambling and probably incoherent and probably should go into my private blog.  It may be moved later, but for now, I don't care. 

I am tired of writing about him, even though I do it.  I'm just tired of thinking about him.  He doesn't even deserve my hatred.  

What he deserves is my indifference.  For me to not think of him.  At all.  In either a positive or negative light. 

Sadly, that will never happen. 

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