Baggage.
I have got to stop bringing so much crap over to a boyfriend's house. Damn near gave myself a fucking hernia getting all that shit out of there. I thought I had gotten most of my clothes when I was getting ready to end this myself and put most of them in the laundry bag. Yeah, doing laundry was an incovenience too. Anyway, I've got most of it now except for a few odds and ends that I'll need to get at a later date as they were in the garage and I couldn't get to them.
My therapist told me that no matter what the outcome of this relationship, I'd walk away learning a lot. And I did. I did this one that best that I could. I tried to maintain open lines of communication. Except the last month or so. I'd been keeping things to myself afraid that if I did say anything that it would be "I gotta get the hell out of here." I loved him cautiously this time. I tried to keep my heart safe. I think I did a good job of that.
It's funny, I have at least 5 or 6 breakup letters I started and never finished. I just never wanted to give up. I'm not a quitter.
He used to say that he was putting more into the relationship than I was. I look back and I think of all the things I did to meet his needs...trying to lose weight. Smoking less, drinking less, wracking my brain for other ways I could improve so that he would love me more. I did so much. I would have moved mountains for him if he let me. But he always got there first, moved them, and then blamed me for not moving them myself. It was impossible for me NOT to be a burden. I was "his responsibility."
I am very sad. My head tells me that all of the above is reason to be thrilled that I'm free of all that. But the truth is, I loved the guy. Sometimes, I felt very safe with him. He made me laugh. He did know me enough to be able to tease me about stuff that I didn't mind being teased about.
And now, I get to start the process of waking up in the morning, possibly throwing up, not eating and generally feeling like shit for the next few months. I'm kind of scared of it.
Honestly, there is a part of me that is just tired. So tired, that that part doesn't even care anymore. So, maybe this will be a shorter mourning period. I just have to try not thinking about the good things and focus on the bad. Perhaps my head will be able to convince my heart that this is the best thing.
And maybe, one day, my Prince will come.
meh.
My therapist told me that no matter what the outcome of this relationship, I'd walk away learning a lot. And I did. I did this one that best that I could. I tried to maintain open lines of communication. Except the last month or so. I'd been keeping things to myself afraid that if I did say anything that it would be "I gotta get the hell out of here." I loved him cautiously this time. I tried to keep my heart safe. I think I did a good job of that.
It's funny, I have at least 5 or 6 breakup letters I started and never finished. I just never wanted to give up. I'm not a quitter.
He used to say that he was putting more into the relationship than I was. I look back and I think of all the things I did to meet his needs...trying to lose weight. Smoking less, drinking less, wracking my brain for other ways I could improve so that he would love me more. I did so much. I would have moved mountains for him if he let me. But he always got there first, moved them, and then blamed me for not moving them myself. It was impossible for me NOT to be a burden. I was "his responsibility."
I am very sad. My head tells me that all of the above is reason to be thrilled that I'm free of all that. But the truth is, I loved the guy. Sometimes, I felt very safe with him. He made me laugh. He did know me enough to be able to tease me about stuff that I didn't mind being teased about.
And now, I get to start the process of waking up in the morning, possibly throwing up, not eating and generally feeling like shit for the next few months. I'm kind of scared of it.
Honestly, there is a part of me that is just tired. So tired, that that part doesn't even care anymore. So, maybe this will be a shorter mourning period. I just have to try not thinking about the good things and focus on the bad. Perhaps my head will be able to convince my heart that this is the best thing.
And maybe, one day, my Prince will come.
meh.
posted by LC Greenwood at 9:32 PM
1 Comments:
I’ve recently rediscovered that hitting the gym HARD, especially pushing myself on the treadmill for at least 30 minutes, does WONDERS for maintaining my emotional stability.
In fact, after a tough cardio workout, the feeling is close to what I’ve experienced after having consumed a few margaritas. What's more, the effects of a tough cardio workout last longer than the effects of alcoholic.
Plus, no hangover!
Just my two cents…
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