I’ve been in a funk all day, and I figured out why after some careful pondering. It’s been a year since I first started talking to Michael. And now he’s gone.
I had a dream about him a couple days ago. I saw him at a bar on a date with one of my classmates. It hurt. I thought I was over all that. He was smiling, and that made me happy, but when I woke up, I was… broken all over again.
I’d bleed a good amount of blood just to have him text a “hey.” to me… I can’t help but think that he’s silent because he really is happy with someone else. There’d be no point in speaking with me. I’m just a thing of the past.
And people always say it’s best to not dig up the past.
I want to get into a fight so I can make someone else hurt just as much as I do. Or maybe I want someone to beat me just so I can feel tangible pain. Maybe I’d focus on that instead of this nasty sensation in my chest. It’s hard to keep down food and it feels like I could shrug off my shoulders if someone shook me hard enough.
I want an axe murderer to tear me limb from limb. When he opened up my chest cavity, he’d find my heart shredded like pulled pork. Perhaps he’d shed a tear for me. I wouldn’t want him to cry on my behalf. I’d hope he’d smile knowing he set me free.
I wish I hadn’t gotten so attached. I should’ve kept him at a distance. I didn’t see the full picture; I thought that maybe he liked me, that maybe I wasn’t some play thing to be thrown aside once its initial sparkle had faded.
No point in being sad, Jess. It already happened. Grow stronger and carry this burden.
If it were that simple I would’ve pushed him far from my mind already. Asshole.
I’m spending more time with a nice guy. He’s the sweetheart every girl wishes for but always passes without a second glance.
And he reminds me so much of Michael.
We ate pizza and watched Rick and Morty last night. I nearly called him Michael. I felt rotten. I started to cry. He wrapped me up in his arms. I felt worse. Here’s a wonderful, wonderful person… and I probably like him because he reminds me of Michael.
There’s a special place in hell for people like me.