Wednesday

I’ve got through two of the big break-up hurdles – the last conversation and the first night after it. The last conversation, or message exchange in our case, was painful. I was full of resentment that you could break up with me that way but then, by your own admission, you’re a coward. That’s where we differ. I was ready to go for it and you were always hanging back. Anyway, that’s all blood under the bridge now. Last night you drew a line under this. And the most hurtful thing is that you didn’t say that we might be able to be together in the future. Yes, you love me, yes, you’d love to be with me but no, you’re not even going to commit to a vague future God knows how many years down the line. How could that not hurt? I thought you might try to soften the blow with a distant promise of something but no. Of everything that went said or unsaid last night, that was the most difficult to carry round with me today.

I think tonight is actually going to be harder than last night. At least last night I thought you might message me. Tonight I know you won’t so I’ll probably end up sitting on the stairs till far into the night crying again and then go to bed and stare at the ceiling for a few hours before it’s time to get up and do it all again. Whoever said that bullshit about better to have loved and lost… was talking absolute shit. It’s hard to love and be rejected. I wish I hadn’t kissed you or stroked your lovely face or held your hand or felt you inside me when I looked at you and whispered that I loved you. How is experiencing all that better than not experiencing it all?

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